She toys with limp form
A horrible game
Vaulting to the sky
And crashing down upon my throat
I love you I protest
as she arrives upon me
“I know” she purrs
I can feign no more
She does not want me
But a cat is seldom to release a catch
Even with no hunger
I have not forgotten the genesis of our love
It was then I hunted her
Like a grey frog on a rock I did wait
Croaking sweet poems
That she believed to be the wind
I thought she was a little fly
Buzzing in freedom
Tight tiny wings flutter wherever she may go
Nowhere safe from my quick trap tongue
My glands, my thick legs, my lust
But what I perceived as a fly
Was but one eye of two
Set above the whiskers that guide her teeth,
her jaw, her blades of hot wet death
feline she is
and though a toad may leap
a cat must pounce
and so she has devoured my tongue
I tremble as she nips in peace