She gets into the tiny spaces
She shouldn’t really fit
But somehow – be it will or way
She fills up every bit
The little crook under my arm
The space under my back
The slither in my armchair
A whole she knows I lack
Sometimes I forget she’s there
Warm love against my frame
Until she gets fed up – of course
And then it’s not the same.
I never thought I’d love a creature
So fickle, mean and small.
But she crawled her way inside my heart
A space so tiny, but now biggest of all.