He and I
by Hyel

There he sits, behind my ear,
his breath so moist and hot.
His teeth graze me; he is so near.
I know - I will not be forgot.

My clothes I throw, unbidden,
to burn in the fireplace.
He does not stir, the night is hidden
cool on his rough-furred face.

I reach my hand to scratch his ear
and nuzzle his great muzzle.
My baby, darling, wilder kin -
I kiss his fur, and offer him
a place by my side in bed.

Oh, so many things that might be said!

I will not ask "why"
and he will not say "because".
I need not echo a lost cry -
A change does not mean loss.
I need not eat my ancestress' flesh
or drink her wine-red blood.
Old thoughts retaken, thought afresh
can clear my rivers black with mud.

And we listen together, to the fire calling
and to the wind, and to the sound
of two breaths, rising and falling.

Sharp claws lie calm on my breast's mound.