And Whiskers On Kittens (Because You Are Most Definitely One of My Favorite Things)

The tiny pink pads of your feet putter against my skin like

distracted fingertips drumming out a playful tune

--- consistent, assuring ----

leaving paw prints on my heart in the sweetest of ways. 


Your tongue tickles my face as you lick my nose:

---------sand between my toes with the sun on my face

---------bundled in wooly sweaters, snowflakes catching on my eyelashes

---------the carpet against my knees; laughing, giggling, playful wrestling, tackling one another against the living room floor.


The hum of your chest against mine clams my busy working mind;

the buzzing of my thoughts aligns with your gentle rumble, 

and the warmth that kindles between our hearts puts us both to sleep.

Your trilling is a symphony that can't be overplayed.

Your body is a stereo that thrums and shakes with love. 

(It's quickly becoming my favorite song.)


Eyes like hot chocolate, warming my cheeks in the cold,

pinpricking me like your claws dancing hastily against my skin

(sharp pains, dribbling blood)

--- when too much is scrawled behind them that I can't solve, 

they scald my flesh. 


Like a kitten in water. (Ears back, eyes sad.)


My heart shatters, remedied only by that cheshire grin -- teeth bared, smiling eyes,

And sometimes my hand down your back is the only thing that reminds me I'm alive.


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