I like my cats bald.
On the linoleum floor, I lay with them, alone, in crackling blue light,
some live some dead some - merely cat fragments
jawbones with yellow rows of stale teeth,
caressing their flesh with filthy palms,
enjoying the smoothness of skin, unashamed,
dreaming of lips that I've kissed,
and then I see you . . .
(poem by Adrian Kien)