The Cat in The Sun. Part IX.
How she lets herself be desired without being owned.
The Cat in the Sun series. Part IX.
Desire follows her.
Not because she asks for it,
but because she lives in a body that remembers pleasure
and a soul that never learned to apologize for wanting.
She feels the eyes.
She feels the pull.
She feels the ache of those who want to possess what they don’t yet understand.
But she’s not here to be owned.
Not by longing, not by love,
not by the quiet hunger in someone else’s hands.
She lets herself be desired — fully, freely —
but she does not perform for it.
She does not dim.
She does not bend into a more acceptable shape.
She does not trade her freedom for warmth.
If desire approaches her with reverence,
she’ll welcome it —
and let it wrap around her like sun on skin.
But if it comes with control,
with urgency,
with the need to define or claim —
she disappears.
Because desire, to her, is not a chain.
It’s a current. A sacred dance.
And if it cannot hold her wildness,
it is not worthy of her heat.
She would rather be wanted from afar
than held too tightly by someone who doesn’t know
how to see and not seize.
Because she is the cat in the sun —
and desire may follow her,
but only presence will be allowed to stay.