The Tigress (Poetry)

They say curiosity

killed the cat.

Good thing she’s got

nine lives.

These windows,

these screens —

allow us to see

into lives

we are not a part of.

But if we look,

will we like what we see?

Will it set us free?

Or will it perhaps,

pull us down deeper

into mystery?

Dreams are pleasant places

but they’re not real.

Fantasy is but another vice.

A body - a face - an energy,

to kindle hope

and root down desire.

It’s the unknown

where magic lies,

where possibilities reside —

where anything can be.

An unknown story

waiting to be heard,

to be told,

to be written;

though reality dictates

it may never exist

outside of one’s own

imagination.

Curiosity didn’t kill the cat,

it taught her.

It allowed her to see,

to learn,

to know

what was real

and what was make-believe.

Because her mind is composed

of magic and mystery,

of adventure and peril,

courage and peace,

of an unwritten love story —

As vast and deep

as the sea.

The tigress awaits

one as curious

as she.