Domesticated pursuit

She is narrow-faced and nimble bodied, Her shifting eyes, her secretive heart. She slinks against my leg, little mewls falling from her mouth. Her body curves like a river, breath like water whispering against its bank. Like clockwork, her eyes flick to the cell in which her true desires are locked away. I understand her intentions but deprive her a few moments more.

Desperate to savour these fleeting moments of affection, As she is to free the contents of that plastic prison. Another mewl, another loop around my ankle as I liberate her from her agony. She who is so ready to make me a mouse, with actions always wrapped in agenda. I may hold the key, but we know the true predator in this game. For my sweet little tabby wears not a collar, but the crown.