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Dogs greet, everytime, they meet, they meet, everytime, like the first time, pushing their, wet nose against you, to play, everytime an urge to, rush and stay.. while sleeping, when aproached, their tail, would still keep dancing, while digging their, sniffs onto their toys, they come to you, all jumpy and pouncing, with eyes seeking, approvals... They keep you protected, in a manner like, no one else, they check if you are okay, and follow you, to a cave or, a shabby mess.. They make requests, which even though, hit rejects, doesn't end up, reflecting stature, rubbing themselves, all over you, they sit alongside, as if they are, always ready for the ride, whenever... If it's late, They wait, If it's hate, They relate, If it's tears, They seek to distract.. Trust me, At some point they do, Have the power to read your mind.. They come to check, On you at night, They always acknowledge, That you are right, Your daughter just adores it's presence, Even though more ofte

Eyes Unsaid

Those eyes stood unsaid.
Awfully misread.
Tactfully unfed.
Besides when they got wet.
I couldn’t say a word to let.
Them never to look at me.
Like before.
Those eyes were unheard.
Sometimes absurd.
Remorsefully bred.
Besides when they fought the fire.
I couldn’t just let out my desire.
To fall back in them.
Like before.
Those eyes were never the same.
As stories, they told.
Were often cold and brutal.
And as a ritual they foretold..
The yearnings were young and old.
Words just outspoke them.
Not to be blamed.
As they came out to be bold.
When closed they chose.
Not to oppose.
The dream of wanderers.
That paid homage to the cold.


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