It captures the feeling of haunting and being haunted, of loss, perfectly.

I would like to use it as a prompt to write something, but it doesn't seem that my brain is producing either poetry or prose right now, which I hate.

Remind me where your cats are? Are they with your parents?

I wish! Everyone wishes! My mother is so violently allergic to cats that her doctors will not even allow her to try the desensitization shots; she could not offer even to have them in the house. The cats are with derspatchel in Roslindale, but I am with gaudior and rushthatspeaks in Somerville. I will be going to visit them tomorrow. I am hoping Autolycus still curls right up onto my shoulder and purrs like a monster truck. I miss them both, but I miss him most: he was the cat that chose me.