Cat
Svelte, like velvet, like night
decanted and sieved
into elegant ink.
Cunning and comfort.
Indolence, guile and grace.
A languid question mark
that answers any vacant space.
Curvature of charm at home
in a coil of slumber,
companion, talisman.
The self-assuredness
of slink and purr and pour
oneself into silhouette,
into dawn, into dream;
the wild an underbelly cry
caught in a stare
of glass-green, feral-fire,
instinct wicked, alive.
Attuned to time's finesse
I pounce, attack, uphold
the secret of myself
like an ancient Egyptian,
little god of alleyways
and acquired wisdom.
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