They are black cat moments–when at night, the full moon is lit white, and the sea is at its darkest run. blackcatwords.com
You left me crooked there with that remark you just made. Let me straighten your angle. You seem a little lost in thought again.
So you say you do it for the thrill.
What’s that? You’ll need more chunks of cheese trails to chase after me? You mean those third-party hookers just won’t do?
Cheddar or Blue?
If you claim to be a Christian, you’d better know about demons.
If you claim to be a Muslim, you’d better know about demons.
If you claim to be a Hebrew, you’d better know about demons.
If you claim to be a Buddhist, you’d better know about demons.
They exist.
They’ll come by your side–where you sit, where you lie.
You’ll know them by their eyes; they pierce, sparking fear. You will be mesmerized.
Now it is done.
They care not for your religion.
You wrapped your face with papier-mâché and thought I wouldn’t get through.
But with a clip and a clop, a pluck, a plop, these kitty nails peeled off your face of two.
One side was caked in empty dreams, the other, blistered by poverty.
You’re still counting my orgasms–six–even soon after we finished the act.
I had to stop, for I didn’t want you to suffer a swelled head.
You are automatic.
Your breath…it ticks on even times even.
Mechanical and scripted.
There’s a compliment here for you, stuffed somewhere in there.
How come you want my candle on low flame, but yours has the right to build and burn up fires?
Do you know what I did? I put out a piece of cheese right by my door. I knew very well how hungry you were, very hungry. But as soon as you arrived to eat it, you found nothing there; it had been removed. I did that. I placed it back in the icebox.
I left you imagining your hunger would be satiated.
My scent led you there.
I know where you buried me.
I breathe in your diary.
You read me and thought you were me.
I lick my paws, wait and see.
You have horns, and I have claws. Don’t say we’re not equals.
Up for another late-night battle?
The up and down,
The push and pull,
A scratch, a slap,
The “I love you’s”.
You want wardrip.
I want lovedrip.
And that’s where our paths cross.
Black Cat Words