No matter how late he comes homes,
Sapphire always waits up for him.
Something in him moves when he sees
The silhouette of her head and
Shoulders lined by the light of his
Bedroom window in the empty
Hours of the night, the rest of the
House in darkness.

He feels a stirring somewhere below
His navel, deeper than his
Insides, someplace umbilical
That he knows is at the core of
Him. Tears bite his eyes. By the time
He gets the front door open, she's
Waiting for him

At the top of the stairs, tail up
In greeting, purring. Her music
Echoes in his soul, enveloping
Him as she lifts her head so
That he can rub it with his whiskers.
She smells like all the light in
The world to him. She tastes like love.
He knows he's home.