a black velvet cat from
thin arm and leg I
pace the home.
who can say who
I am or what
I will say? each day
tides over the certainty
of my body no
more, no less. I guess
my approximation of this
life will have
to do; I cannot
seriously debate with visions
that are my own.
I cannot seriously
act, but somehow
the tension, the
cohesion of existence
makes me cat-like with
animal feet and seeking
nothing I seek.
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