cat and mouse

without mouse there is no religion.
not as Aurelius imagined it:
a ribbon of chaos thrown into the order of things,
the spherical form of the soul tardy, frayed.

but without mouse there is no chase or hunt
no frenzied mind, no swaying heart.
just the slow uncoiling of time
around a hole of oblivion.

a slice of luck, decaying.
the trap abandoned but ready to spring.
just cat, alone and bemused,
licking his own lips, unable to speak.