puppy eyes

when the dog looks around, shifting between petrified and skittish, i pause

to brush her fur and apologize as if it’s for being human. even when it’s for turning off the lights during whatever dreams plays through a pet’s mind in its vulnerable mindlessness.

and sometimes she tears through my trash can, but i can never find her wearing rabid eyes. and because they look as defiled as the tissues strewn across my bedroom, i apologize to those blank brown eyes (hers, not mine).

(my ancestors sank their teeth into  he earth and chewed and smoked it while yours had fangs not to be replaced with gold but laced with vitality.)

i’m sorry. and i know you can’t forgive me.