Dog in Bed

Nose tucked under tail, you are a warm, furred planet centered in my bed. All night I orbit, tangle-limbed, in the slim space allotted to me. If I accidentally bump you from sleep, you shift, groan, drape your chin on my hip. O, that languid, movie-star drape! I can never resist it. Digging my fingers into your fur, kneading, I wonder: How do you dream? What do you adore? Why should your black silk ears feel like happiness? This is how it is with love. Once invited, it steps in gently, circles twice, and takes up as much space as you will give it.