Tuesday, September 4, 2018

What Must We Do Valentine

My cat and not-my-cat
Loves to sleep when I sit down
Between my planted feet
 
So when a mosquito comes
To stab my thigh I am not moved
To move me such is love
 
She sleeps so peacefully
But I must act or die
When that tiny werewolf flies
 
Slowly I reach down and snatch
The thing and crush it
So deftly she hardly stirs
 
Who knows what dreams
Her fealty unfolds
Who knows what daring ventures
 
Resting here in love unmoved
With my own bright blood
Slowly dying on my fingers

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