Her cat was named Pablo after Neruda and sometimes Paul, her boyfriend, used to talk in Spanish to it. What bothered her was that Pablo seemed to understand, would respond with that sleepy look of familiarity he saved for her boyfriend alone. Whenever Paul was over, the two of them--Paul and the cat--would prowl the house together as one, lazing in the slabs of sunlight, waiting for her to come and occupy them with treats or with games.
Sometimes she secretly wanted to learn or invent a language that would make her feel more loved. She wanted to be a lioness of love...
If only I could do this lovely picture better justice. It's off a June Tabor album cover from the eighties. The other day I found myself writing a song called Love is a Lioness, but I only finished one verse. It was a bit masochistic, maybe. It went like this: Roar out/ Your name/ As you sink your teeth/ Into my heart/ Hunt your prey/ With hungry eyes/ And take him down/ Take him down/ Take him down/ You lioness of love.
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Mmm. Well. I think you do it justice. It *is* a lovely picture. I like the word picture...instead of painting, or image, it makes a change. I like the sound of your song too...it sounds like something Al stewart might have penned. Josh Ritter just came onto my shuffle. You are always with me x
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