It is hurting to hear the dog cry--

his howl

echoes. (His heart is sick with something

like blue fingers

warm and bruised.)

The dog howls like he's never feared.

Ache. He howls like the bright,

blank page exists an hour later.

The dog is still

howling.

It sounds.

He's just realized he's lost something

precious:

a part

of himself

:

it's still hurting,

the dog howls.

what if you go find the dog,

he comes to you--

you feel the sadness in his head.

and his sadness then kisses you.