Claire.

My eye fitting just
between a slit
I see her crouching
on the wall, back
arched and legs
tall, licking the
length with
her own wanton
tongue, rough
stuff on the floor
chicken bones,
gold catches
the suns eye and touches
me at the very core
this woman, this feline
might feel
just as sore as I sound



might have been heralded
as a godess
in Egypt.



I consider my
canine nature
my unwarranted
devotion, my
wagging tail,
I play dead.

Come sunset
we feel
the insurgence
of life, barking,
scratching,
howling in the night
waiting for the
tug of collar
against neck,

the fight of
tooth and
nail.