Something you like

i can't give you letters
i'm selfish.
i can't offer you my words

i can't write poetry
none of which is fiction.
i know nothing of literature

i can't travel
my legs are weak
my mind's searching for something else

you always ask me to do this and that
but i always (as always) refuse

i can't give you my poetry,
my words,
my treasures and my plans

but here's one thing,
i can give you cheesecake and a bottle of wine
the next time you ask me a thing i am incapable of doing

will you smile and eat the cake
or let it rot
or else days after you'll notice something
inside the mouth of your cat


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