This Cozy Wicker Basket

A metaphorical take on love, in any form, with some chapters presenting a new theme for their imagery. Feel free to rhyme if you want, or write something even more poetic. No need to keep the same narrative mode as the first chapter, change it at your discretion.

I lie between the blankets, cushioned with comfort. When I wake up, you're here with me. When I wake up, we've become something else. In this cozy wicker basket, we are kittens, we are cats.

Paw to paw you lie with me. Scratch my back and I'll scratch yours. Nose to the nape of the neck I'll nuzzle. Claws that cling caressively and feline fur to fondle. In this cozy wicker basket, I'm your cat and you are mine.

As a cat, your eyes are different, yet every much as interesting. Pink nose of mine between your ears, I smell you. Meow. And here we are, in this cozy wicker basket.

It's just us, as kittens; though there's room for one more, there's room for four. Between every blanket fold and tongue-lick bold, we're here as kittens 'til we find ourselves not in this cozy wicker basket.

I've found a home that isn't, in the embrace of a wicker basket.

I purr for you. I mew for you. Cuddle, cuddle, cuddle. Spayed and neutered, 'til we leave, we call this affection innocence by name. Innocence by act. Warm, warm, warmer. Innocence by love. This kindle of kittens burns with passion in our cozy wicker basket. Meow.

Softness. A mutual emotional corona. So then, why?

I walk away, on only two feet, for I know that I must. Tears fall, from human eyes. And I promise you, one day, I'll return to our cozy wicker basket.

Something in me is breaking.
I don't understand.

Remember, I love you both.

Broken, it still beats. Cry, cry, cry; for you, for you, for me.

The End

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