The Cat inside Me

angry cat

The Cat inside me cannot settle.

“Do you want to go in or out?” I say.

She does not know.

She winds her way around my feet then nips my ankle.

“Okay, okay, I get it. You want food.

You always want food,”

I bend down, give her some leftovers

from breakfast.

“You were only fed a few hours ago,” I say.

“No. Not croissants”, she says.

“And certainly not a banana. I’m not a fucking monkey.

I want Stone Baked Ciabatta Loaf with honey.”

She is anything if not specific.

But, of course, we haven’t any.

I drive down to the supermarket, my inner cat

Turning with anticipation.

I get home. Give her some.

She’s satisfied. And so am I.

We both flop on the mattress and have

an afternoon nap.

The cat inside me purrs.

 

8 thoughts on “The Cat inside Me

  1. Hey! It’s just gone 8.30 pm here and I’m not thinking ciabatta BUT I will be in the morning; it goes fabulously with honey; and don’t listen to my inner cat, bananas are pretty fine too — but why do they have to be sooo BIG???

    Like

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