Of all our sunny world I wish only for a garden sofa where a cat is sunning itself. There I should sit with a letter at my breast, a single small letter. That is what my dream looks like.

That the stars are adamant everyone understands— but I won’t give up seeking joy on each blue wave or peace below every gray stone.

My self-confidence comes from the fact that I have discovered my own dimensions. It does not behoove me to make myself smaller than I am.

I have a luck cat in my arms, it spins threads of luck. Luck cat, luck cat, make for me three things: make for me a golden ring, to tell me that I am lucky make for me a mirror to tell me that I am beautiful make for me a fan to waft away my cumbersome thoughts. Luck cat, luck cat, spin for me some news of my future!