Ponce cat fluffs out his chest

Towards me.

'I know better than you.'

And he does,

Looking in the air at

Things I can't see.

He can see my voices,

my hallucinations, my Jesus,

Who comes when I am sick in the head.

He can see them now,

Understand them,

In a way my over-conscious mind cannot.

What's God anyway, Cat?

Such contentment in licking your paw.