Aptly called a rescue dog,
filed under white noise
there was only a thousand different ways
that I could've fallen under your spell.
 

this seat, on a sunken iron lung
in the abyssal, clawing cold
a bog of wet denim on laundry day.
It's here, gateless and voiceless
I'll sit and wait for you to find me
knowingly pressing my cheek into my knees
fitting smaller and smaller into the space...

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