Body Pillow

There is a kitten,
one pound furry weight,
snuggled sweetly
in the heated niche
between my breasts,
that notch designed
it seems for nestling

like all the curves
of a feminine body,
cushioned for comfort,
lumpy
like a well-worn pillow.

Perhaps a man's head
or a child's round, naked face
will rest here someday.

Or should I conjure
another fantasy:
children who demand
a taut, toned belly
in which to bury their sobs
and a man who requires
that I let him cuddle up
to all my body's bones,
a nightmare world
that sometimes creeps
into my daydreams,
someone else's
broken wish.

For now, the kitten forgoes
complaint, stretches tiny legs,
kneads the soft skin,
lowers her head,
drifts into dreams again.