Cats in Computers

She does not know her heart-shaped nose.
Her role in books,
The charming purr
Or muscular paws
That pulls in audiences
At box offices.
Only those privileged to avoid her
Cross-hair
See her pounce as majestic,
Her fan of claws
Beautifully
Choreographed;
Clashed with the warm scent of blood.

We tried to code her into our systems,
Moulding plasticity
As
We traced her throat;
Co-ordinates
Transposed into raspy howls,
The semaphore of her tail movement
The liquid shield of her eyes,
Shading the hatches of her
Softly swept fur
For the time we had to move

Cats in Computers

(Or if she was ever evicted
By entropy
Way before our estimation)

She had a side of her
That she would never discover,
One we aimed to nurture
To restart our Earthly relations
Elsewhere.
She does not know her heart-shaped nose;
The foundation code
A footnote
Of our universe.