Exhausted, your prostate yourself,
legs aloft and crooked,
chin tilted towards some ceiling corner
as if to suggest you were focused
on anything but us.
Still,
you follow footsteps with a beady eye,
wriggle your spine against tile,
happiness thumping in rapid, swishing beats.

As Lillian shared a lovely doggy snap with us tonight, I thought I’d include a sketch I did last month. I’m currently 9,000 words deep in NaNoWriMo, but when I’m not writing I have a go at improving my drawing skills, which mainly involves many hours of looking, sketching, going ‘well that’s shit”, erasing and trying again.