There’s no kitty
Anymore. And I’m sad.
Not like she was
Frisky, per se, or had
That dog-like manner,
Overwhelmingly.

But there was a comfort,
Knowing she would be
Splayed in the center of everything,
Regardless of the she or he
Who was first to arise
Regularly.

She could talk.
I knew her ways,
Like a room mate
Who stays
No matter what I forgot to do
Most days.

There’s no kitty
Anymore. And I’m sad.
But she is in a fine place
And glad.
It’s just me who mourns
Pathetically.

Feeling a similarity
Between her absence
And a million missing pieces.
All of which now have presence
Because of a solitary state
Completely.

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