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a black cat crossed the street

as i was speeding down it,

i came to a halt, 

but it was already gone. 

i guess that it's lucky:

i didn't kill the cat,

but as i stepped out to look where it stood,

Is it so wrong for you to look at me?

Is it so bad to smile my way?

You act like I'm untouchable, a flea,

But yet you kiss me whispers and my hair you play.