Pit Bulls in Bed
--for Scarlett and Bea
always moving--glowing souls in rippling muscle
when I stir they stir. heating the mattress pressing their ribs against mine
sticky mouths chewing in sleep
as cows do as babies suckle
gargoyles friends
the warm condensation of cruel myth
one ear fixed toward the door
no evil has ever crossed this threshold
nor will it.
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