Wednesday, June 8, 2011

This Happens For 100 Years

The love puppy goes, bark! bark! The love puppy belongs to me. The love puppy bites my fingers and ankles. Little teeth marks. Little puppy breaths. The love puppy licks me licks me licks me. I love the love puppy and the love puppy loves me. The love puppy in my bicycle basket. The love puppy in my car. The love puppy on summer vacations and the love puppy at night breathing heavy. I get mad at the love puppy, the love puppy gets mad at me. 5,000 feedings for the love puppy, 5,000 baths. The love puppy grows into his paws. I walk the love puppy 13,000 miles. When I run away, he chases me. When he runs away I put up flyers. The flyers are written in Mandarin, Spanish, Tagalog and French. The flyers say, REWARD! A MILLION DOLLHAIRS FOR THE LOVE PUPPY’S SAFE RETURN! PLEASE! PLEASE! HELP SAVE ME! and a phone number. The bed has only one warm spot for many days, many nights. My routine is broken. I hobble around on one leg turning in circles. I sit in the darkness smelling his smells until he returns, says sorry, nestles close until our warmth clings together like before. The love puppy sits on the doorstep, always on the doorstep, and I always am coming home.

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