23 april 2010
her cries are now sporadic outbursts throughout the night & day
she knows how to get down, shake her heinie and sprint into motion
she has turned my bookcase into her personal jungle gym
and my duffle bag into her private get-away
she pounces on invisible bait
and swats confusedly at her own tail
she lets the fresh-squeezed milk sit, untouched
but steals and tears into the wrapped beef-stick,
only to reject it when opened and presented in her dish
she sneaks out the door in the morning,
but returns before sunset curfew,
just in time for supper.
she picks on herself in my duct-tapped mirror
and scuffs at the slightest hint of affection
she scurries like a hunted gazelle
she bounces like a bunny in heat
and bursts like a popcorn in the fire
maybe she's no leopard child,
but rather a teenaged girl.
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