the cat leaps through space.
the cat’s journey begins with tinkling music and darkness.
the cat denies any relation to hedgehogs.
the cat is the only one with velvety paws.
the cat has the body of a biscuit.
the cat has lungs of sugar and intestines of flavour (by extension).
the cat’s life is a glass of wine.
the cat shits out a path of rainbows.
the cat is the shape of eternity.
:the cat’s smile is composite pixels;
the cat lassoes the stars, releases them:

the cat somersaults over the glimmers, over the reminders of light’s purity.
the cat grows thorns.
the cat crumbles, like soufflé deflating from its original puff.
the cat fades, like blood-ruby roses into snow.
the cat’s vault can only brag of pile upon pile of mere residue.
the cat is the impossibility of imagination. 
the cat is infinity’s void, a heart of falsehood. 
the cat is the world, incorrigibly plural.
the cat once leapt through space. now there are only remnants.

Alex Tan is completely obsessed with Virginia Woolf—he has just finished reading "The Waves", which is intense and complex. Visit at He was part of the 2012 OF ZOOS Summer Workshop.