Where It Pauses
a woman.
a cat.
a hand.
a paw.
to him,
they are no different.
contact blurs distinction:
skin like a whisper,
fur like a secret,
both untranslatable.
he kneels, but not for them;
he kneels for the floor,
the inevitable pull,
the scripted gesture.
what does it matter?
flesh forgets its impressions,
fur sheds into the air.
they stay without staying;
they leave without leaving.
he doesn’t hold on.
they don’t ask to be held.
the loop hums.
it is not a circle;
it is a smear, motion without meaning,
a trace without origin.
a cigarette glows,
a drink stills.
their absence is a ripple,
their presence, a shadow.
all just pauses.
all just noise.
a woman.
a cat.
a hand.
a paw.
