Friday, June 25, 2010

Black Dog

God's breath in man....
the last thing one would
expect on a day such as
this, as the black dog
circles to make his
presence known

no coldness, of charity
in your hands, the
brow furrowed as you
spoke, tiger-eyes
burning bright
hair curling back, so

(he growls and bares
his teeth, troublesome
canine, most difficult
of breeds)

she bent her head
to his, plucking on those
strings to make some
melody between them

drowning out even the
most incessant of howls

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