And Let My Eyes Into Your Pupils Dart

In my opinion the greatest poem that was ever written about a cat (but not really about a cat ...) is by Charles Baudelaire - here´s an English translation that I think is quite good:

Come, my fine cat, against my loving heart;
sheathe your sharp claws, and settle.
And let my eyes into your pupils dart
where agate sparks with metal.
Now while my fingertips caress at leisure
your head and wiry curves,
and that my hand´s elated with the pleasure
of your electric nerves.
I think about my woman - how her glances
like yours, dear beast, deep down
and cold, can cut and wound one as with lances;
then, too, she has that vagrant
and subtle air of danger that makes fragrant
her body, lithe and brown.

I´ve tried to capture the feeling of these verses for this week´s SPA challenge "Cats".