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Phoebe-bo-bee-bee
Phoebe is a kneading lump in my lap
Tail, swinging, keeping time
Built-in, furry drum-stick, beating on
Wooden desk drawers to the right of my
Cat-pants-clothed knee
In Phoebe, I see envy, loneliness, anxiety
Competitiveness with her sister for our affections,
But her sense of competition doesn't seem self-defeating.
Fickle Phoebe, you nibbled just one love-bite on my wrist yesterday
It felt like a cat-kiss. Was it? Pat thinks so.
Phoebe needs to teach me to be more like her.
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