My imaginary cat
Lies in wait in the tall grass
Waiting for me to mosey by unsuspecting.
Sometimes I see her haunches twitch,
Or her tail signaling her eager, imminent pounce,
But by then it’s too late.
She’s quick with her swipe, claws extended,
Going for blood
Before I even know I’m in a fight.
It’s her purr, and the rubbing up against me
That lulls me into believing it’s okay to be me
Until I make a wrong move.
It’s amazing for such a little thing
What a devastating strike she has.
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