Monday, January 13, 2014

A January of Small Stones 12

Old Locutus

Body light with age
she concedes to lifting,
old claws catch
as she kneads my chest.
Her ears so silky
but tiny rough spots
mar her back.
I stroke the hollow under her chin
and a warm loofah tongue
washes my knuckles.
We drowse warmly
in the early morning dark.

January 13, 2014

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