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Oct 2018
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The heavy weight of the dog at my feet
She is hot through the blanket
The night is crisp and dry
Outside
I shift my legs
Bending them at the knees as I turn sideways
She curls
And fills the space.
Rolling into a tight ball and pushing againstΒ Β the me that has become
Burrow for her body

It is the first cold night.

And I have seen growth in time passing
kfaye
Written by
kfaye
  279
     yosemite and Mote
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