There is something about
the unabashed bliss
of kittens
as they burrow
into the deft and furrow
of their momma’s belly
jockeying for prime position
undeterred by paw or claw
of sibling
driven by
a singular purpose and pleasure
when
finally (finally!)
they clasp upon
that illusive source
of succor and goodness
tiny bodies relaxing
into the contours
of nearby fur-lined souls
front paws taking up
a slow punch and draw, punch and draw
to stay the warm, milky stream.
It swells my mind
to a fluted memory
of your whole-bodied embrace
against my middle
eyes closed
lash-rimmed contentment
drawing hard
gulping deep
as the milk flowed
my breast aching the cascade,
then settling.
I mined your ears and crevices
checked skin, hair
caught a glimpse of
fluttering eyes
and wisp smile
of half-dream slumber
You loved cats
when you were small
forgiving them
their sharpened garras assaults
on your tender skin
“Gakos,” you said, trying your Spanish,
“O-ta,” you said, in your growing Arabic
“Gato,” I smiled, drawing you to me
And you would pretend
following your sister
(always following your sister)
that you were a kitty too,
mewing your presence,
both of you tumbling, yearning
for my attention
like kittens do
You were succulent sweet
the kind of sweet
people could almost not bear
“mish momkin!” they would say
“It’s not possible!”
for you to be that sweet
but you were
you always were
Egypt left its imprint on you
like it couldn’t on your headstrong sister
it wove itself into your skin
the way you
moved, the way you
played, the way you
loved.
She, two years older
eschewed the advances of would-be paramours
“Balash!” they’d say, mimicking her refusal
and she’d close off, eyes pleading to me
to sweep her up
kiss my love into her again
But you I never had to worry about
“Haboobah!” they’d say
“We love her more!”
they admitted
and it was true.
Ironic because
before you were born
I was afraid I might not
love you as much
as this rare sister of yours
so exceptional,
whip-smart,
she was
perfect
wedged there in my heart
But there you were, loved
By me, by all
Loved by Cairene legions
Egypt was better for you
than it was for your sister
but she had America
and you had each other
and I loved you both
more than my beating heart.
