her tail twitches once, and then lies still as the chill of the morning air, as centered as her slitted stare. she’s heard the squeak and seen the probing paw. one hindleg shifts one half one inch; one claw slides from its sheath.
wind in whiskers, time turns long between the hunch-on-haunch-then-launch and the song of bones between her teeth.
what is the chief[ri]end of life?, she purrs, licking down stray furs until she’s smooth and sheening. the[se] ends are the means to the meaning.