Velcro Horsedog I want a velcro horsedog! I announced to the virus. The biggest, boldest female ya got, I told the human. Now you walk To where I stand. Lay Where I sit. Nudge me to perilous ledges Where we sleep. Now you huff At shadows I can’t see. Snort at ghosts I dare not name. Haul me from the mire, Then bury your face in my ribs. You, my tether. You, my dare. You, the velcro horsedog I never deserved— But somehow summoned anyway.
It is not about the feast, but the hunger that teaches you shape— how to bend without breaking, how to reach with empty hands and still return with something.
The world shrinks until it is one task, one drop, one breath— and still, you carry on.
No grand designs, only the daily architecture of survival: a grip, a balance, a moment held longer than expected.
What remains is not the size of the prize but the stretch of your spine toward it.
