Cats in my patio

Bold, bulging, speckled, brazen belly of a chinese iron pot: the cat B-side, abandoned over the squared concrete patio is fun of Earth. Motionless but the tail, lampblack from a byobu pulled out inch by inch, stroke by stroke, shades of ink from emptiness and nature. Its moving eyeballs full-rounded iris coverd -maybe drowsy are spraying unseen flashes under the wet eyelid, milk-soaked but moisted in frenzy. Almost vibrations of a dream: the ferine rve. Under the glaring sun, in such a blank horizon, seamless a stretching void dominion: one cat, another, one by one a shoaly archipelago of samples living forms confined by muscles, joints and limbs. Inside full worlds easy at a glance but really Cubbyholes of Eden, so they are! Creation overdue. Leftovers of godlike pulsation, reckless and raw disposals of genesis, big bang who knows? each of them pretends to stay, to be. A peaceful calm zoon. Alas! The plain, hard fact is to consider them the cat!