No more kitty kisses.


Around me blossoms
the same spring awakens
wreaking havoc on my life

I’ve kicked the crap out of “merciful God”
I’ve struggled thumbscrews tenderhearted angels
I’ve punched justice in her gravely face
I’ve said to all those blitz words such as:
joy, light, merriment, hope:
go back to your cheerful fellows

As she is laying numb in my arms
I fell her body gone numb and her breath is frozen
with her lips pressed together
in her final breath
the great struggle stiffed her limbs and the black demon left
her stern eyes
the pupil of the eye is spilled over with fog

I wonder if this is my time of death.

In this wasteland –
this seems to be
my life now.

Forgive me I couldn’t write a better poem for you,
for the pain has prevented the birth of worthy verse

No more kitty kisses.



Author: Leila Samarrai

I am a person of Himalayan seclusion, I am Atalanta in vestments of Helen of Troy, for me there is no term (aphorism there is, maybe). Cosmopolitan is too modest word for one who wanders across epochs without the help of the time machine. Some people consider me weird, because usually this is so when they do not understand something or someone that do not represent their existence. I love cats, an animals in general, I like challenges, I am persistent, I am combative (sometimes I can exaggerate in that - in all) If I were stylistic figure my mortal name would be Hyperbole. Read me. Know me. Conquer me :)

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