She's sitting on the chair next to mine,
demanding bits of my breakfast toast.
She stares at me and cries, she is so
desperate, she wants to tell me,
for just this treat; she is owed.
Her person (me) keeps her starving.
Earlier, after her own breakfast,
she accompanied me back to bed.
She spooned with me, settling her tiny back
into my chest, as I arced around her,
stroking her tummy and throat
while she stretched and purred.
She is my boss lady, and I'm hers.
We've made our negotiations.
There are matters on which
we renegotiate daily. We work it out.
E.g. she will use the cat door, reluctantly, if
I keep ignoring requests to open others.
But I'd like to see me try to keep her
in a bag! There would be ructions.
She would scream at me and claw,
scrabbling fiercely, the way she used to do
at the carpet outside the bedroom door
when I shut her out ... before I surrendered.
April Poem A Day Challenge 2014, day 11: statement. ("Make a statement the title of your poem, and either respond to or expand upon the title".)
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