Languid, a liquid cat in no hurry
To move. Perfectly poised to drip
Among thoughts with cautious,
Toe in puddle steps.
A gurgling purr flowing around shins
Of neurons. This rapture brings glances,
Attention. A rising swell. Focus
Builds into white caps.
Wave crashing, smashing the cat
Into non-existence. The only evidence
It was ever alive at all is the drool
Left on the pillow.