She is so small
that one hand
can hold
her whole world.
She buries her face
beneath my collar,
searching for something
she cannot name,
only knowing
that it lives
somewhere
between my heartbeat
and the cotton
of an old shirt.
Her paws
close around my finger
like a promise.
Tiny.
Certain.
As though she believes
I was always meant
to be found.
She suckles at the fabric,
kneads the place
above my heart,
and purrs
with enough courage
to fill the room.
Not because
I am her mother.
But because
I have become
her safe place.
Funny,
how a creature
small enough
to fit beneath my chin
can make a house
feel fuller,
a silence
feel softer,
and a heart
remember
that sometimes
love doesn’t arrive
with grand speeches.
Sometimes
it arrives
with tiny white paws,
a rumbling purr,
and the unwavering belief
that your heartbeat
is the safest sound
in the world. 💛🐾
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