Untitled by Anonymous

I begged for a dog until it leaped up to my head 

Greeting this newborn beast, 

I would say goodbye to my floors.

He jumped around the ground

From sister to brother, while, 

With my mother’s assistance, 

I flew about the furniture in active avoidance.

He had made the ground lava and my family was scorched, 

But I dared not touch.

As I grew, he seemed to shrink.

And my fear turned to fondness.

When life began to jump, he became my floor.