StarCat/CatStar

Clowder
No one is ready for this photo. Not us, not
the cats we adopted on a buy-one-get-onefree
day at the shelter. We sit on the
futon, confettied by cat fur. The tabby
nuzzles my neck, speaks the growling
rumble we think means love, means
friend, means game on. She meets the
camera’s gaze, paw my jugular, some cat
grip that means hers. The calico clutches
your arm, as if to say, Please let me go. I
need to gamble, shout, Hello world, I'm
yours! We’re all waiting for the timer,
fearing one of us will wiggle free, or that
the timer won’t work and we’ll be sitting
there grinning and holding each other
our whole life. If you look closely, you’ll
see I’m leaning into you. If I look closely,
I’ll see how your leg is pressing into my
own. If we both look, we’ll see how the
cats aren’t really looking at the camera,
but at each other, ears pricked as if they
hear something we can’t hear yet,
nostrils pulsing as if they smell what we
could never smell, whiskers feeling a
movement in the air, an impossible
thrumming that has just started, low and
steady.
#!
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