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Angel of Cats
Her ears prick for the sound of sorrow and under her skin her muscles ripple like fields of wheat, from a windy eastern land. Smooth pads of flesh patter as spring rain falls as she dances towards you with goddess grace to fill the empty spaces all around you with her feline joy.
She settles softly upon your lap lightly as a falling leaf yet sturdy, strong, enduring. She slides her cheekbone against your own, spreading her strong saliva smell that owns you. Her Bastet eyes are silently serene, composed and compassionate jewels green as the waters of the Nile where all her magic comes.
Later, in your garden as you read your book of poems among the blazing hearts of roses the enchantress prowls her whiskers attuned like fine gold wires for white wings floating in the air the yellow hum of bumblebees inventing their clover and the reptilian rainbow light of dragonflies riding on wings of lace.
Her ears attune for music far beyond your senses and you imagine she hears the Sirens singing to the music of the spheres. Within your earthly flesh, you cannot see or hear beyond your known daily world so she glimpses to you, the rays of light from the unknown realms of heaven with the Zen of Calicos, her green healing eyes and her knowledge of Elysium that only the angels can give.
Genine Hanns
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