Once I held the paw of a dog
and gave it something to look at as it died.

Betrayal; he looked to me and I
held
       him
              down.

The drugs that crept through narrowing veins
sharpened their knives inside his skin;
he shuddered. Odd, apparently they are not supposed
to fight this forgiveness, this blessing cyanide disguise.

His eyes never left mine,
though the light lingering flickered
and my hand on his faltered

that instant we were infinity itself
suspended, his tremors humming through my hand

but then I encounter the imminence of
reality, when I saw that he could reach it no longer.

Now I hold still his recriminations on my face
with hands that fall slack, and he waits
at the edges of moments of weakness.

my loyal companion, mans best friend,
such misfortune I was not born a man.