the Angel and the Dog

gracefully she walked.

the soles of her feet imprinting on the sand

as if to let the heavens know

exactly where to find her.

her sweet scent rode on the salty wind.

her Infernal curves sway with the waves.

delicate, fragile, fierce.

her eyes - greener than the palms on the

trees, expect for a sliver of blue

like peering into tiny skies of woe.

and beneath her little hand, a dog.

a dirty, mangy dog. a dog that looked

forgotten.

his paws were bloody, his ribs showing.

and he wreaked an oder that smacked you

between your watering eyes.

his fur was rough and weathered, as if Van Gogh

had painted him with all his extra colours mixed

together. his eyes were still eyes.

and there she was. leaning down with her little

soft hands, scratching between ever disease.

full of love her pet that dog.

full of love her leaned against her.

that is what makes her so beautiful.