Pussy Pavillion

*A POEM DEDICATED TO ALL THE KITTENS, CATS, AND MEMBERS BELONGING TO THE FELINE PERSUASION (TIGERS, LEOPARDS, SPHINX, ETC) EVER HAD A CAT CHECK YOU OUT FOR A WHILE FROM A COMFORTABLE DISTANCE, UNTIL THEY FOUND IT NECESSARY TO SIT IN FASHION AS A LOAF ONTO YOU? eXaCtLy.*

in stealthy gardens, she then parades with shy fluctuation  

compressing down my blossoming appetite, extending my editing time to starvation 

like a kitten, she comes with exciting jubilations, as yarn persuades by rotation & duration  

intending to string me along, as if i could sing in harmony with her song 

bulging expressive eyes, their playfulness surrenders me : to fawning sighs

life ain’t that fair, when kittens are resilient like a stallion to their chosen pavilion

until suddenly, the kitty….while prancing by :

thought enough of me to lay loaf, on my thigh

of course i’m not mad, more like excitedly glad that’ i’ve been honored with their beauty, command, and grace

their kitty cat pussy face, is like a bowl needed to be licked clean, and that they do 

not for me or for you, but because grooming is a necessary act of self-care

they wouldn’t dare, ignore this allure, as their purrs causes all the stirs

all the feels, all of my wills : are to the spirit of the cat! 

yeah, i said all of that! 

i heard somebody say once : “cats don’t have owners, they have staff…”

and you can go ahead and laugh, at the work i’m willing to do on their behalf 

you can consider me the x to their y on the graph 

for this feline strikes with precise skills, revitalizing my company with aww glowing thrills !

pussy pavilion,

pussy pavilion,

like a stallion made resilient to its post, cat’s are too cool at doing the most!

Consequential Replay

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Open the door, that leads to the corners of the alley.

You’ll then see a cat and when she lurks around your composition – you’ll find a nervous sensation!

Be careful to charm the legs of suspense because they look too warm you through their lingering.

Every when night you go to sleep – they appear in dreams reminding you of the boy you once were.

Being very earnest to play with every living creature that came your way.

The intimacy that comforts you in the pillows and sheets gives you the indication of excited passions.

When she settles down in your desires, you become governed by the will to replay it again.

Looking down to write down more of this story – the archive of already established stories hovers your mind.

You are reminded of the effect this magic exhales upon you. Time and focus again; you find yourself, continually a part of the consequence of transmission.

She’s the one behind the magic who merely comes as the mirage of fantasy.

Everyone knows how she tastes – the fascinating lullaby that makes all children close their eyes in the midnight hours.

The composure of replay gives back the lost reason, a home that is to be remembered.

I’ve experienced this quite recent, being haunted by the familiar cat.  I’ve taken a break onto social indulgence because of the heaviness of what is going on. I’ve been reminded by the focus of her obsession that there is a story that covers the mind! It’s been like a replay, but my home is no longer there, I desire to fall into the grace of a magical place!