ankles, knees // his wrist, his neck

Dev Murphy

early mornings Nick the cat circles your ankles like a little fog; feed the cat; feel the cat; shovel with care his box; he nips at your knees; purrs; brushes against you; E who also has cats told you "cats rub against you because they want you to smell like them, they want to own you"; when you catsat for her Luna hid from you the entire time except for when you stepped out of the shower all perfumed & steamy; she ran up to your dripping wet legs & rubbed against them, replacing with her thick white fur the fur you had just removed; then she ran under the bed again. // for S’s birthday you buy him his favorite cologne; you test it out on yourself before gifting it & wonder if he will recognize the scent when he smells your hair but he doesn’t or doesn’t say so; when you wear your cardamom perfume he breathes in & says "you always smell so good" & you fantasize about rolling the ball along his wrist, his neck, rare naked spots on an otherwise lumberjack body; he won’t let you; but when he wasn’t feeling well you asked him "do you want to smell nice things?" & he said "yes"; & you went to your shelf & you pulled your perfumes & your essential oils & your lotions & you brought them to the bed where he lay; & you set them in a pile by his head; & you opened each bottle one by one, & brought them to his face to smell them, one by one; "stay with me," you said.