In sleep,
deeply dreaming,
a furred beast stirs against me,
forcing me to wake,
and my heart stirs,
eyelids fluttering
as they cling still onto that reverie,
and I am hanging there,
desperately,
fighting just to breathe,
Until "God damnit cat!",
I scream.
Pissed,
by this rudest,
most abrupt,
of interruptions.
But unsurprised.
You see it in his eyes,
that sleek contentment,
because he knows that breakfast
will soon be ready.
And worse than anything
I forgive him,
all too quickly,
both of us knowing
It's only over
until tomorrow.
Stupid cat,
he's too smart
for my own good.