Dreamspace Studio

for Monet, my dog

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You do not speak,

but you say everything

in the way you lean in,

just enough

to let the ache in my chest know

that it’s been heard.

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You are not loud,

but your silence is a hymn—

a soft, wordless vow

sung in the rustle of fur against flannel,

the quiet click of nails

on hardwood

as you follow me

room to room,

never letting me be alone

for long.

---

The world has cracked around us before—

you saw it happen.

You smelled the sorrow

before I could name it.

You curled around the pieces

until I could hold them again.

---

They say we don’t deserve dogs.

They’re right.

We don’t.

We never could.

---

But still,

you stay.

Still,

you love.

---

And I will build a life soft enough

for your paws.

I will carve out space

for naps in the sunlight

and walks that never rush.

I will not ask you to be less

clingy,

less loyal,

less you.

---

Because you,

my silent sentinel,

are not a footnote

to my grief.

You are a chapter

in my healing.

A verse in my heart.

---

And every day I have you,

I will try to be worthy

of the kind of love

that asks for nothing

and gives

everything.

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