Kitty is
speaking to me
She wants to
know where her taste of butter is
Her meow is
simultaneously a question and a complaint
She moves of
her perch by the window
Crosses the
carpet to where I sit at my desk
She nudges
me, to get me up
To go to the
kitchen and lift the lid on the dish where
The stick of
soft butter rests
Dab my
finger into it and return
She has
taken her spot on the arm of the couch
The place
she receives her daily treats
She is
speaking to me
It took you
long enough is what I hear in her meow
She licks
the butter from my finger tip
Lays down to
clean her paws
