100 Words: Home


Sometimes we need to feel the body.

I came to them – the people that saw me measured in ounces.

The dog beat them. She threw her frame against my knees and I acknowledged her golden hair and aging white nose.

Then her, and him, and then brother. The order is usually as such. Strange. Beautiful. Why, I wonder?

Throwing their bodies – the weight of more than just arms and “good to see you’s”.

But, words that didn’t have to be said and those are often the loudest.

Welcome. Glad. Coffee?

We did our kitchen dance. Laughter, words, looks.


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