Just thinking

He's wheezing squeekily, licking his tail purposefully, like he's ticking off a chore. I'm lying warm and damp, radiating heat, hair spread out, flowing over my pillow the way a young maiden's would, or an old women all done up, dressed up for death. You know who I mean, she's swallowed all her bright little pills and lays herself out in a frilly lilac gown with her best jewellery, holds a note in one hand and waits. A kind of sleeping beauty, like me. My eyes blur over, colours sing lullabys.

Every so often I reach out to stroke the cat, warily it shuffles a couple of inches back. My mind dives into another dream, I steer it to the side of the pool and try to hold on. Then I remember today and let myself drift. I'm good at forgetting, that's why it keeps happening. How many chances do you give someone? My life is complicated enough without money disappearing from my account. Whenever I start to re-trust him, curl closer, kiss his neck and let my heart creak open, just a crack... it happens again. I know it will continue, if I don't leave him. The pattern has been set, it's familiar territory now. Like a snowball out of control, he's got a talent there, big blue eyes, so very genuine. Anyone else and I'd file a police report. Maybe it's time. Although the thought makes my skin crawl. The police are not my friends.

The cat tenderly bites my hand, he has a tiny, pink erection, like a stamen in a flower.