little black kitty vibrates on my chest
listening to the world
wood, asphalt, and glass
imagining the forest where rain fills the rivers
here there is cracked blacktop with motion
below pooled streets in reflection
drops following seams of asbestos
down long chimes
away from me drifting in the attic
slipping into dreams on a paged turned
eyes so thick
to be swallowed into the cozy
my hopes are so high