Night, 04:34
The cat lies there,
Wrapped up like a seashell,
Served with scallions and fish sauce,
A dash of soy to perfection.
Focus closer; see it?
A fleeting gaze into that which we are,
Dust so dense, diffuse in its scarcity —
Profound only in its absence;
Billions of years hurtling toward a world
Wanting only a voice to name it home.
Destructive Anachronism 
Benji. A seashell cat, I love. I am not sure about the food part though, because one cannot eat a seashell (or maybe the inside of it). I love the last four lines – makes me think of the Universe of which we are a part. Stardust?
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