unshaken dew on your fur shatters the early morning rays into a million coloured shards your back heaves up and down between ragged breaths head pointed skywards, a low moan escapes I, a wretched husk. a rusted chain stretches between us, bloodied wrist to paw I remember when I came across you when we were both much younger bygone days, when we chased one another wrestled in the foothills held each other in those long biting winters my hands tremble, my eyes mimic them the only remnants of our roars burn our throats our wounds seethe with pain but neither acknowledge it I fell in love with you with your strength and softness a lumbering hulk of meat and fur and bone but we're both old now, both exhausted by each other you need to live without my shackles on you a low rustle, as you pull on the umbilicus once more I reach over, unclasp the paw the one with a bracelet of pale skin we stare into each other I don't know how to live without you.
This piece was written around February 2018. Lot’s Wife accepted it as a piece for their print edition – Issue 4, 2018.
Not Yet Returned - Cody B Strange 