poem : of dogs and their masters

eyes that cry never lie ( ? )

 

the untruth of it rustles (coloured in amusement, pink-yellow) under naivety. you want to

believe that they sob

for you? for you / pretty dog, called to heel, nuzzling at fingers that cl i ck – ! – and call the pet from its deathbed, back to the grave of

their arms (the hazy smell of your blood

in the cracks

of their palms) ;

 

you are better

when you are unlearning,

dull-eyed, blurry smile, dining on sugar-crusted death / dumb, lonely,

and lovely.

 

  • of dogs and their masters | t. bennett ; @raggedhearts

 

 

 

 

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