Soft,
her eyes droop and stare,
watching my every move.
Pupils that speak a language
impossible to confuse.
I toil on my computer.
Ears
perk, jerking back
and forth,
waiting for the next move. My hands
clamor and clink!
in the kitchen sink.
Ex-
hale, her slender snout breathes in and
out with such force that I can
feel her boredom
on the back of my neck.
I sweep and mop the fetid floor.
Perched
on the rug, she observes
and wiggles her wet nose,
soft like baby toes, and
smells the trash
as it walks through the door.
Gray
Are those eyes that wonder
why I occupy my time
doing nothing, when
I could be outside
playing Frisbee.