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.