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25
My cat and I play chasing each other.
He jumps while I write and then stretches out
full length in back of the warm computer
to claw my hand when it comes in sight. Ouch!
Ow! I say but Cachito doesn’t care
about a little cry. Now if I die
and go to heaven, it wouldn’t be fair
if Cachito dead and gone couldn’t fly
to meet me. Hand in paw forever
like friends jumping from the World Trade Center
or tourists who’re caught in stormy weather
we will go or we won’t go together.
Having fun, what’s a little blood? I scratch.
Cachito bites me and I bite him back.
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Drawing by Akram
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