Wolf-Grrrl

1. i get up at ten. this is an accomplishment. by eleven, i’m awake enough to miss you. to be honest, that part never goes away— but eleven is when the typewriter grows fangs and threatens to swallow everything i am if i don’t put a name to the feeling. even the dog’s tail does not wag. he keeps watching the door. he will not even touch his food until the sun has set as deep as possible. he is giving you every chance to come back. i try to tell him there’s no use, that you will never come back. but dogs don’t understand things like that, don’t believe in the concept of ‘never come back’