BAUDELAIRE'S CAT

jumps onto his
chest lulled by the
steady heart riffs
and she purrs in
see-saw rhythms
her back arched like
a charged bowspring
as he palpates
her long tawny body
he falls into her
opaque eyes
and sees a lost haven
inhales her musk
swimming in the air
about his head
like a dangerous attar
if only they loved us
as we love them
he thinks

John Birkbeck

If you've any comments on his poem, John Birkbeck would be pleased to hear from you.