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the pomeranian hitman
A clouded haze of silver
hopping down angelically, pointed ears resting to the
left and right
like fluttering wings
continually perked awaiting flight...
dark eyes wide and shimmering;
pools of melted chocolate from Ferrero Roche commercials,
a small, lily-pad pink tongue hanging like a bandana down over
the front of someone’s neck, flagging
up
and
down
in the darting wind.
and from the depths of this ball of fluff, this cute little creature
that grips your heart with paws of steel
there arises
ROARghHF ROARghF ROOOOOOARRRghHHHFF!
when a sliver of darkened blue and a tan leather bag encasing a mountain of letters
come into view on the front step.
“Shhhh…,” you say,
dragging back on her tiny (cute!) body
“It’s just the mailman.”
and yet her warnings are incessant,
your favorite floofy bodyguard determined to save you.
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This isn´t that good, but I just want to get into the habit of writing again.