The first time I saw you, you tossed your net.
It was your eyes, staring out at me
from the computer screen, telling me
I’m the one. I wasn’t certain.
It’s just pixels beating my heart faster. What if it’s only
your good looks that grab me? Or did we spend
past lives together? That’s how much I wanted you
in my arms, to feel the heat of your body against
my breast, to devote my life to your well-being.
Can you be co-dependent with beauty?
All your information, your sad background
of life in alleys, hunted, haunted, lean
almost dying. The capture. And your
aloofness. Were you lonely? We would
meet no matter. If we sniffed and disliked,
if we argued and hissed, then it would not be.
We rendezvoused but not with your peers.
Just the two of us, supervised, of course.
Would I make the commitment
to touch the swirl of marmalade hair,
to honor the command of your voice, the embrace
that matches no other. This is not madness,
I claim to those would disdain a new
relationship at my age. It does not matter.
You are young and I am old. We are perfect.
I will live longer on your devotion. We knew
in that first glance of eye, the first touch.
Did others watch? I know not.
I closed my eyes, felt us be.
I waited for the confirmation.
And then the deep roar of your purr
in my ear, your tail around my neck.
To those in doubt,
fear not. You can fall in love