THE FIRST DOG IN SPACE
I like to think you roll the world
closer to my window,
nudge the solar system into my space
with your nose.
I like to think I would have loved you,
given the chance.
You would bark heartbreak in your native tongue,
as I do mine,
count our ribs at the crosswalk,
lick long-ago-gotten wounds.
Show sympathy the way strays know best;
I only long for collarless communication.
And when I recall on my life,
all I can recount is the hunger;
I wonder if the stars staved off the starving,
if you ever experienced all the colors of the cosmos.
If you sit at the gates searching for
a companion, my sweet girl,
know I will never seek to confine you
in man's creation;
We will run
and run
and run
and run
and run
into that roadless righteousness,
fetch our long-lost freedom from their hands,
howl into the heavens, dare to ask them why.
Why?
YOU ARE READING
HEAVENLY CORRUPTION
PoesíaThe ramblings of a woman who spent too much time in confession and too little time trying to figure out what exactly she was apologizing for.
