Moshi

When I go to feed one cat, I see two bowls.

When I sit down when I get home, I think about how you pushed your way into my lap at every opportunity, digging your claws in to make sure you stayed there.

When I close the curtains at night, I remember how you sat looking out the window, parting them and letting in the city light. 

When I lay my body down to rest, the weight of your ghost curls up on my chest.

I miss you.