Katie.

Kathleen, why can't you comprehend
that not all lives are meant to blend?

Even if I did meet you in a life when we were both cats. Cats that slept under the dead of night, watching shooting stars scrape against the ozone letting in an absence of anything. Ripping holes in humidity. Oh Kathleen, you were always a better Kat.

But Katie dear, your blood is thickening. Your being thrown up against walls and forgotten about. They forget to put food in your bowl and water you do you grow nice and tall. Sprouting in all directions getting ready for harvest.

Katie, Katie, Katie. You never did quite learn how to be fruitful. You always kept to yourself and watched the cars slide on icy patches. Spinning and turning and screeching with their distant red tail lights. They screamed your name, didn't they?

Kate! Why, oh why Kate! Why did you have to play your violin so loudly that Sunday morning? You know full well that Sundays are for rest in this house. So you jumped ship and hoped that you had learned how to swim in a past life. But no such luck. I think you must have been a rock in your past life. Yeah Kate, you must have been a rock. Be my rock Katie?

Won't you be my stone.