Monday, April 23, 2012

A puppy song for my neighbors

Whining, always whining is this puppy who is new and who wants to know the answer, though the answer she wants is not the answer to a question, but the answer to a shape, a shade of grey, a yearning to be lifted into arms. The answer is warmth, an atrophy of which leaves her head hung submissively over the edge of the couch back, waiting for a coming together of bodies.