Animals

 

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“What  you think of me I cannot take,” the bull whispers to the goat.  “You find me too big and brutish with wisdom and I find you grumpy and brittle with anger.”

“You disgust me!” the goat yells back, pieces of can escaping from his mouth. “Why won’t you just love me?”

“Why won’t you just love me?”

“Why won’t you just love me?”

“We’re repeating ourselves.” The bull huffs.

The bull walks.

The bull writes, paints, feels, cries, tries and fails.

“I do love you.”

 

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