8.25.2023 - Transmutation

8.25.2023
Transmutation

I wish I were a tiny dog,
Head cocked quizically to one side,
In that familiar way that says,
“Love me; you are all I have.”
Or perhaps lifted high into the air,
Placed by your side or at your feet.
Panting with the hope of touch,
With the longing for connection,
Yeilding to a savory treat.
Like you savor my attention.
If I were a tiny dog,
You would not kick me with such violence.
You would see my frailty,
The diminutive parts of me at scale.
And then, I would be home.