Much like a three-headed hound, each alive, connected to a singular body.
Variance in feeling. Head one is aggressive, intimidating. Head two is excitable, fervent. Head three is solemn, dour.
Which hound do I favor today? Perhaps my sullen hound. My sullen, reserved hound.
He is marked with a passivity. Quiet, lacking in reaction. His under eye area is always a bit moist, eyes glazed, rheumy.
Ah, yes, I love him so. He is, for this evening, my favorite hound. I feel relaxed as I gaze upon him, with his stillness as opposed to his brothers…
One is growling whilst gnawing on a bone. The other has a lopsided grin, ears raised up. Their shared tail wags, due to him.
My precious boy, has tear streaks mottling his fur beneath his eyes, head hanging low, eyes aimed at the floor, unseeing…
He resonates with me, in his dull despondence, most days, nights.
In this cold darkness my only catharsis, to sit, chilled to the bone, in deep reflection…
There is no escape from how one feels.
