kitty

my dead cat had issues

(she leans into the wind

feathers trapped in her

fur loosen and fall she

wraps herself around

herself and draws near

close enough to taste the

dysfunction in his breath)

she was lovely sleek the

softest coat moonless

starless black killer of mice

and cuddler of laps she

would choose a stranger

and hypnotize them deep

purring magic luring them

to stroke to caress until

she would explode into  a

tornado of fangs and claws

and then run off only to stop

a sort distance away to

display her ass before

leaving

(she laughs he is horrified

the way her hands mimicked

claws the hiss her eyes the

color of sunset in the valley

of death he stiffens as she

begins to scratch behind his

ear)

oh don’t worry as i said she

passed years ago still spry

until she didn’t wake up i miss

her you know she was different

with me so gentle and pondered

this i have repeatedly her violent

streak the line between beast and

kitty blurred so beautifully so pure

lacking any of the baggage clearly

not bound by gravity the same

way we are tethered to nonsense

and pictures of sad clowns that

etch themselves at the top of

stairs which led no-place just

no-place

(he shifts her hand falls away

leaving no marks no traces

no evidence that they had been

touched)

so what do you think they were

the issues your cat had

(she laughs and steps closer

resting her head on his shoulder

and her hand on his chest he

reaches instinctively and begins

running his fingers through her

hair admiring the reflection of

the quarter moon rising)