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Luna Jay Jan 17
Heathen cat,
Atop my Mac.
You’re feral
And losing teeth.
A fever from your scratch,
A heap of furry black.
Flicks his tail and tongue to greet me.
Meet me
In the chatroom.
A real cat-fish
I presume,
The squawk box amuses me.
Yellow eyes and painted ears,
He types away at all his fears.
I fell in love with a stranger;
A true online catfish he’d been
For years.

— The End —