Stroking My Kitty

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Baxter dug his claws
Into the open weave
Of my comforter
And like the deftest mountain climber,
He made his way
Up into my little world.

For this Sunday,
My world consisted of
The four sides
And the four corners of my bed.

Baxter curled himself
In the middle of
My fetus position,
Brushing his fur against
My exposed skin.
It was there he chose
To take one of his
Infamous cat naps.

I eyed him
For a minute,
Then began to stroke
His black and white fur.

Unexpectedly,
The tension in my body
Began to unravel
With each rise and fall
And stroke of my hand.

I didn't hurt as much,
I din't feel like
My heart was broken
Into many pieces
And those pieces that were
Still intact were
Rolled on the smaller shards.

Stroke by stroke,
I let go of the pain,
The misery,
The confusion.
I let go of the love
I still had for him.

The morning stretched
Into the afternoon,
And I stroked my kitty
Until I came
To the realization that
It was not him I missed,
It was having him that I missed.

The epiphany stretched my world
Beyond the four corners
And four sides of my bed.
Thanks to my
Stroking my kitty.