When the Dogs Bite: 9th August 2-24

soft dough

baked hard by the hot sun

de-pooing the garden

Your hateful words

slid away like rainfall

into an inland sea

but the deeds you performed

are still etched into the bones;

fragments to be relived daily

and excavated by anthropologists not yet born

but who will point to the symbols

and build a history based on violence.

They'll never know I loved you once

before the end began.

When the Dogs Bite