By Amber Spalding
Curled up on a warm,
thin, black hairs
shed with every stroke,
floating like dandelions in the mild air.
With every exhale he nuzzles deeper –
a fetal position, comforting.
A gentle breeze cools his fur, gliding, like birds over water,
leaving temporary ripples on its surface.
As I curl my finger around his tail,
an opaque pupil stretches open
and gives me a discrete wink.
A soft purr hums as I kiss him between his two velvet ears.