When there was cancer
in my neck
you would
come down
to my bedroom
and rest your chin
on mine
while I slept.
You would
curl your body
in the crook
of my shoulder
and I would
be fearful that somehow
you would
catch the cancer
and I think
you knew
and you just wanted
to take it away.
© Julie Bolitho. “Poem for my Cat,” Poem. Third Wednesday. Gravity Presses: Winter 2008/2009, pg. 32
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