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Miniature Champions (A Poem)Miniature Champions
My bones, oh, how they boil down to honey.
Twisting crevices in my spine circulate wild flowers.
Like miniature pony rides tumbling down my back.
I wait for dawn to come with horehound lozenges tucked in cheek.
Tongue tied waiting for the blooming rays of light to come save me.
Beautiful black birds circle the sky waiting for it to be gone and over.
Chamomile blossoms sit delicately upon my every tooth.
Waiting to be spilled down into my throat; the champion of stories.
Eyelashes quiver like the bow of a nocked arrow; unleashed.
Silence like waves of rainbows crash down upon my harbored shores.
Basking on the coldness of the wooden floors, my feet curl.
Toes hiding from the desperation in my voice and the lonely of my mind.
Nose upturned to the sky in its own elegant stature; always looking up.
Brown eyes imploring the lands beauty and capturing crystalized notes in her rosemary palms.
Growing emboldened with
RileyIt was like he knew...
Before, when we used to go to the vet, he always would look up at me with his adorable, deep, and brown caring eyes. He would mutter and mumble and complain in his own dog talk when would arrive at the vets and then punctuate his distaste of the vet by pooping right out in front of the waiting room window.
He was so/so with car rides. Nervous at first at the unsteady ground beneath his paws, he would circle and fall and turn and look at me like, "What the hell?" Then he would finally become comfortable and we would roll the window down and he would let his eyelids fling open and his mouth gape open in pure, blissful delight.
He was loving. Always trying to crawl up on the couch, all 130 pounds of muscular male German Shepherd trying to wiggle his way up beside you without you noticing. He sat at our feet and gazed. He never barked. Unless someone truly evil came, like he could sense their malevolenc
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