it is fitting that it was a fleeting
glimpse of the white of his coat
still in tact on my chest, how he
hovered under my legs, i wanted
to run away with him, kidnap him
if i must but i knew i would only
hurt my boo, he's the kind of pup
that is loyal to the end, his end
at a whistle's notice he was back
at a "here" and he was home, i
know that feeling i want to tell boo
yet i got into my car and drove
away the raindrops striking my
car and i thought for an instance
about love, and how if i was younger
perhaps: but i am old, the white in my
hair showing, i will never dye it blond
or wear the heels with short pants
i will be who i am and if i am me long
enough perhaps i will be enough
