I refuse to roll your fur from my shirtsleeve.

I pluck what little you left behind like a flower when the nights are cold,

and my bed is winter garden.

I love him,

he loves me not,

I belong to him,

he belongs to me not.

Sometimes we stop and look at each other from opposite sides of a dark and empty road. Our stares, the only light that reaches either side.

I promise both of us

not to come any closer.

_____________

Promptable #11: like an alley cat