I wake up in Siren to a cold morning, window open, Meredith and I entwined like burning twigs beneath a comforter the size of a slab of whale blubber. Now with a glass of orange juice while Mary Anne tinkers in the kitchen to prepare breakfast. Pancakes and bacon, I think. Maggie comes out of the laundry room with nails clicking on hardwood and tail beating the air, a smile curled like a snarl on her lips. She likes to wrestle in the morning, and bite at my hands with the soft mouth of a bitch handling her pups. In my chest, I feel my heart expand with the feel of soft dog fur under my hands, her doe eyes and ears curled back against her head like a wet seal. It is good to love and be loved.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment