Pet or Bride by Linda

Her feet were said to be square with toes that fell at a slant.
Deep purple polished painted the smooth toenails.
Quietly she crept through the house
crunching the carpet as her bride like feet stepped down.

In a slip of red against her olive skin
she was said to be beautiful. A sight for sore eyes, it was said.
Laced with the scent that sprays from a dark purple bottle,
she called it Tragedy.

Her eyes were big and bright as she lay near by on the floor.
She gazed at the year round Christmas lights,
like a cat. She purred. She stretched.
She was told she was sweet like honey.

The Glass beer bottles lined up on the black coffee table sparkled.
The candles glowed and danced
all while the cat was claimed by a new owner.
She had a new home? Was she a pet or a bride?

Poem written and donated by Linda