Persephone our black cat's gotten Manic-playful, smitten By our new pet: golden kitten. Both seem rocket-driven. Soar so high, can't spot the kit. Purr colorshifts to blue With flickers of fluorescent hue-- blue-on-skyblue hidden. Zoom, dive at the roof--pull out Just in time. They seem Puppeter-jerked: high-strung! Scary. Swoop again Again! They skim, not scrape or slam, Flying not being flown. Joyriding feline-fast. Well-known Cats play risky. Rough. A whisker-miss for a cat's enough; Don't be safety-fussy! Not with cats. They love to jet-- Chasing--say it--pussy.

NOTE IN THE MORNING

So what was this dreamlet about? Today our acting class was full of improvs tinged with flirtation, and the two biggest flirts resembled Purr and the golden kitten. I felt sad--I could only watch, not participate. The abuse I faced as a kid and teen still cripple me. The dream reminded me that my classmates aren't me; their cat-fast reactions, uncrippled by trauma, let them respond to teasing with less risk than the same scenes create for me. And the joy those cats felt pointed out what I can gain if I do heal those scars.

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