Jernee: silently begging me for attention.

It doesn’t come buried
In unwanted pheromones
Huddled over ripened flesh,

It’s the subtle look
Of wonderment from
The sleepy eyes
Of a senior canine,

Beckoning a belly rub
From your callused hands

You satisfy a need
Watch her lull into
A deep sleep, tongue hanging

While she dreams

Sometimes I forget about love, about loving, about yearning to be loved because I have grown tired of the fight for it. Then I look at my friendly companion, the actual love of my life, and I remember love again. And, I am thankful.