The year of the cat.

Long expressive asian eyes
climbing the border of a cappuccino cup
remind you that she came
from the year of the cat.

Your tongue is tied
you don't know what to say.
Her presence is so intense
that you feel like a bird in a cage.

You don't ask questions
and you rush bravely to find
what's waiting inside
the year of the cat.

A piano sounds softly in the background
of a passionate 40's love scene
while she locks your heart
and the rain kisses the cats.

She is too much, too white
like snow in a Chinese garden
like a mountain in the night
breathing quietly in the year of the cat.

You want to know her secrets
and live in her arms until you die
so you make a toast to eternity
but she can't stay, she came from the year of the cat.

A.