The quilted lap of all cat tops

The quilted lap of all cat tops cups a universe of the black bean-like pawy-like pads within ephemerial wafts of bad breath in the dark small hours illuminated by the lumens by lamplight in this recling device my body folds directed primarily by that same gravity that trees ignore like reclining kings and queens which is why I would not know, as it seams the skins of my two hands shining lightly.