For Psipsina
My catfaced creature
nuzzling your pillow, dreaming
sunny afternoons and soft blankets
I really could sleep forever,
sometimes,
when sleep comes so easily.
Would it surely wake you,
my light hand on your soft stomach?
Would it prompt a long, lean stretch
a breath-y catch, a wakening?
Then I will wait, impatiently
savoring the precarious (vicarious)
pleasure of watching
you
sleep.
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