A Fever of Living
Some nights step lightly,
like lily-shadows in blue water-
apparitions in transit, between dreams.
She awakens in a translucent purgatory-
a tread from an incipient dream
to a feverish slumber, to a body –
a map of nocturnal metamorphosis,
lacerated fish belly sewn with orange seams,
eyes like butterflies in rivulets of pee,
unmade and re-made, like an incipient dream,
a delirium with borderline personality,
a fever of living.
Cats weigh virtues
of trespassing humans,
(mouthing words quietly
with unrushed resolve),
of inhumanity traversed
in massively inconsiderate
and conjure vacant moments,
vials of nihilism,
in ‘vacancy’ (like size)-
of a feline, the royal nihilist,
on trespassing humans.