Our dog sheds nonstop.
Flurry of fluff floating through air particles
Part of the inhale
(Our clothes, our food)
But he always has place on our bed
-
Our cat is a demonic spawn of super energy in a slinky black hole body
His (non-existent) boundaries are free spirit
A constant contrast of cuddly and terrifying tornado
He sleeps between my wife and I
safely
-
My wife sleeps diagonally
Unable to drag herself out of nightmares independently
Sometimes I’m the lifeline from the traumas of her dreams
Yet I can’t fall asleep without her warm presence by me
(Diagonal or not)
-
I sleep talk, bilingually
Move too much, trying to manage anxiety through movement
(Drives my wife nuts)
I’m antsy in bed, active even in slumber
-
Our bed is home
Home to the fluff,
the hyper,
the dreams,
the movement.
It is where we have found comfort
Warmth in each other’s arms and paws
(My favourite place)
About the Creator
Oneg In The Arctic
A storyteller and poet of arctic adventures, good food, identity, mental health, and more.
Co-founder of Queer Vocal Voices
Some other rad writers to check out:
James ❄️ TheDaniWriter ❄️ Melissa
RiverJoy ❄️ J. Delaney-Howe ❄️
Water is Life ✊
Keep reading
More stories from Oneg In The Arctic and writers in Poets and other communities.
In The Blink of Her Eye
Time itself bent and morphed, allowing Shannon the precious seconds needed to see and adjust to the disaster unfolding in front of her. Each frame showed minute details she would have missed had the clock not slowed down until she heard every click of the hands as they swept toward the end of everything. If only she was being melodramatic...
By Lisa VanGalen3 days ago in Fiction
Comments (4)
Love this. I giggled at "A constant contrast of cuddly and terrifying tornado."
awww....who doesn't want this?!
Loving it!!!💖💕
This is definitely comfort :) All the good with the not-so-good, blended together. Loved it!