catapult.

(although written for someone else – worthy to share.)

 

her Majesty, le félin féminin,
empress of black
and fur –
egyptian goddess of night –
saved the day preemptively
when I was just eighteen
fourth of july is our anniversary, she nodded
and nuzzled
time flies with no fright
with rhythm, despite
our cries to the moon while
we get it just right – and
fill contempt with Light, it
does not compare
are we aware
time knows no
boundaries –
crash-landing
on the moon with a spoonful of jello
strawberry
and we
dined among the STARS
spinning
cried among the STARS
we do our thing
gangster – in the spring
blossoming –
le félin féminin
purrs again . . . menu changes
her majesty  of mystery
sometimes we just do our thing
let’s live in the mountains, I say
romance the sparklies . . .
eat the numbers
is there any other way
surprise!  the cycle goes…
’round the sun
but isnt it fun:  we’ve begun –

catapult

spins to win
we die to our rhymes
a little at a time

 

 

 

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