A curious cat
I am the princess about to prick her finger on a needle and sleep
for a hundred years. I am Psyche holding a candle and clumsily letting
an oil drop fall on the chest of the beautiful beast. I am doomed to
walk in iron shod shoes for forty years till I find the kingdom East of
the sun, West of the moon. I am the seventh wife of Bluebeard who dared
to visit the forbidden room. I crave for a bite of the poisonous apple,
the taste of wisdom and then exhile from planet Eden. I open boxes of
storm like Pandora effortlessly. I follow threads and webs and
labyrinths deliberately. I burn my fingers, and still I grin. I will be
punished as it was vastly forewarned. A little knowledge is always a
dangerous thing.
I am just a curious cat. I want to know the ones I love. I want to love the ones I know.
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