Cat-God
Cat-God.
Scars on human souls
like cracks on china plates,
stone-cold glue seeping from wounds
frozen mid-drip.
Cat-God.
Paws against old wood shelf,
one furry oaw on slick porcelain.
Small push
Small push
Plate slips and falls,
falls through ageless months of pain,
turning over and over
like the hourglasses of kings,
like gold coins flicked in the air
heads, tails, heads, tails,
An earth-shattering, dream scattering
crash.
Cat-God blinks sleepily.
Push
Push
Another plate.
Another tumble.
And more and more,
cascades of a porcelain waterfall
A river of cracks and glue
falling to the broken shards below of defeated predecessors.
Cries
screams
wails of loss
as old cracks re-break
glue fragments pulverized to dust,
and new cracks fly like earthquakes
across the pale, smooth china.
Cat-God
alone on a dusty shelf,
above a graveyard of ruined children
and souls cracked one time
too many.
Cat-God leaping lightly down,
careless, carefree
to curl up beneath
the pillar of unbroken sunlight
pouring through the window like honey.
Unbroken window glass
Unbroken still
As Cat-God purrs
from the windowsill.