Sunday, 9 April 2017


(day 9 of #NaPoWriMo challenge)

It comes with the snow on its soft, soft paws.
It sniffs and it sniffs, always this sniffing.
Until it re-finds you, rattles your doors.
Up on hind legs, it laughs. Oh that laughing.
Worries your loose threads right to your stuffing.
Oh no, the horror, the torture! It’s real!
On to the ravaging, barking. Woofing.
Licks you, gnaws you, starts softening its meal.
You fall, hopeless. Love can be a ferocious deal.

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