Language is redundant,
vowel and consonant congealing
into the warmth of an upturned,
pink belly.
The leash is on the heart,
a perennial tug
at the strings, melting, melding,
into a love that keeps giving.
In the shedding, biting, clawing,
all that I’ve held on to
comes asunder.
Gestures turn
into journeys
of interpretation
as fur slides
to calm palpitating breath.
And the eyes
create a new lexicon
I am still learning to uncover.