Selune, my moon-shadow, my quiet queen.
You came to me not with noise,
but with knowing—
like you had already decided I was yours
long before I knew it.

You walked the house like a temple,
grace in every pawstep,
ritual in every blink.
You were not mine to command—
you were a sovereign who chose to stay.

Now you are a cat with rainbow silk,
your tail a ribbon of light,
as you cross the pet rainbow bridge,
unhurried, unsurprised.

Crossing the rainbow bridge,
you step into forever
like you step into sunbeams—
quietly, on your terms.

This cat loss is a hush I can’t fill,
a space where your gaze used to land
like a spell.

In memory of my cat,
I leave the window open,
in case the wind still carries your purr.
I place a cushion where you once ruled,
and I wait—
not for noise,
but for presence.

One day, I will cross that bridge too,
and there you’ll be—
perched on moonlight,
tail curled like a crown,
watching, waiting,
as you always have.