January, Second
Published in
1 min readJan 3, 2018
A couple of cuddling cats
On the porch just outside my apartment:
All wet, yet somehow without a stain,
One ginger, his lady — hazelnut brown.
With a terrifying roar
Cars pass by them,
It smells of roasted meat,
Flowers,
And rain,
But they do not move.
Seems like no temptations whatsoever
Can break them apart,
Even the most irresistible ones.
I smile to them, as I look through the window,
Turn around,
Take a cup of coffee
And a good glance at your naked back.
Then you turn around too
And the music
Is everlasting.