Feline in the way her irises
Deftly align with the vertical signs
That hang from our rigid bodies-
She spies on our silence
Creeping by our sentience
With a stride that knows nothing of sound
As if her paws always tread on clouds
Made of our oblivious designs
Of creatures that refuse to follow
A human’s living lies.
Eyes wide and blinding in the night
Reminding you that the moon
Is not the only thing that can shine
With the help of a little light
Before she turns to carry on
A life of peaceful pleasure
In her corner of the house
Where she hides all the dead things
She wanted to show you
Before thinking twice.