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Bit
Impromptu-sofa-top acrobat,
steel your fur for winds through the windows.
Make ready your chosen habitat
for those who would impede on your doze.
Graceful 'til you tumbled down the hall
on the bones of a slippery tree
that stretch from my feet to the far wall
that met your head while you chase the string.
Living motor cloying with its spry
boundlessness; you last, far into night,
sprint across the small of my back, cry,
and dive through holes in shades you've made. Right
as your nose meets glass, I'll tickle you --
you'll jump, I'll laugh, and life continues.
