kitten:

I wrote it in the sand,

hoped the tide would carry it away.

It would be cathartic,

to let the waves rush over you.

Cold, clean, new.

A place for rebirth,

right where it started.

Bathed in sunlight as the day fades.

You looked stunning in that light.

Wore it so well,

it almost seemed to shine for you.

Everything was built on sand.

Foundations crumbling.

It was still possible to find peace.

When you looked between the cracks.

If the world was ending,

why does she still turn?

Every funeral pyre was built the same.

On grief, on loss, on kindling.

It’s a wonder how we all burn.

All you need is a spark.

If only the night were flammable.

You could show the world your color,

those mingling blues and reds.

Almost inviting.

I’d join you there, curled by the hearth.

I am a kitten lying in coals.

Purring and content to return to ash.

Curling up in fingers of smoke,

to play amongst the stars.