A Cat of Coincidence

you tried to run away, you know.

-

when i heard your heart-splitting call of, “help me,”

and came to the edge

of the weed-filled ditch —

you tried to hide.

-

when i picked you up you weighed

no more than the box of butter

i’d taken out of the fridge that morning

and your fingertip-sized paws trembled in the cold.

-

you fit beneath my chin in those days,

and i tucked you into my shirt for the frost-breath walk home

feeling your fur press

impossibly soft against my tired skin.

-

you started to purr right away —

do you remember?

the soft, low rumble humming deep

into my bones.

-

i knew it before we even reached the street sign

that we were meant to be,

as fast and fervent as i’d ever known anything

and i knew you knew it, too.

-

you’d sleep anywhere on me, at first,

on my shoulder, my lap, my chest, my head,

the open circle of my palm as it rested on the desk

and you seemed to smile as you slept.

-

it was the happiest i’d been in a long time.

have i told you that?

watching you play and grow and yes,

even destroy my favorite bamboo.

-

and when i felt sad, you always knew,

curling like a puddle of gentle ash

in the hollow of my stomach, and you filled

a place in my heart i didn’t know was empty.

-

so in case you need reminding, Kit,

i love you,

i love you,

i love you.

-

and thank you for reminding me how important it is to stay.