My Love Had A Belly Button
My Love had seven toes on his back feet.
My Love kissed all people, even bad ones.
My Love didn't understand one single thing--not even being sick--except being held close, French kissing at all times, and handing you his paw, over and over.
My Love hated the White Stripes.
But he loved blankets. You know, that way.
He struggled in his body, but didn't know he wasn't totally normal.
He knew he was cute, though. And he wasn't above working it.
And it worked.
My Love had silky puppy down that stuck up on top of his head.
He left his body. I saw it in his eyes. I want to put him back inside.
Maybe Lauren is right: Now he is a part of everything that loves and needs to be loved.