Wednesday, 24 August 2022

For Iris

For Iris When you look at me so carefully: Mischief-eyes now shot with concern, Lap the salty wetness of my face with your faintly rough tongue, And gently place your head in the crook of my neck............ I know then: I am touched by angels. PS. They say that God made Moms because He/ She couldn't be everywhere all at once. I'd just make a small change to that: Because He/ She couldn't be everywhere all at once, God sent us Dogs.
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