Anais

House of Heart

Frightened by a world she can barely hold on to,
the uncertainty of breath
where safety lives in dreams.
I like to sit in her lap
and play games as
she strokes my fur with
her gentle fingers.
Sometimes I tease and
pull away,
lick myself and pretend
I am too busy.
When the master comes home
he too likes to play,
tossing me into the flower bed
with rough paws.
I feel my bones may break so
she placates him with a smile
while I hide away in the garden
chasing lizards and winged things.
She kneels when  he yanks her hair,
slaps  dewdrops from her face.
When it’s done he washes   rust from his nail beds,
says he’s had a bad day.
I don’t understand the games my people play.

 

Anais AnaisPhotography by Heart

 

View original post

One thought on “Anais

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s