Meet the Breeds

Your fur, your paws, your unbiased tongue;

flesh and fingernails, the sweep and the scrape of introduction.

Pounding the wrong way down city streets

in rush hour.

It is body language that sings her elegy;

friend and foe, the friction and the frisee of first touch.

Instructions read: keep your palm down and 

extend toward nose

It is enchanting to meet you;

wrists and ribbons, the perfume and the clasp of ownership.

Imagined arms, legs wrapped around

soft upturned bellies.