Unsuccessful keg stands.

The cuts on my legs
Are from his begging dogs digging jaws,
And unsuccessful keg
Stands.
And maybe I shouldn’t have let his paws
Land
On
My hands,
Who’ve gone
And rummaged through-
Something much to sweet to
Leave unfinished.
But I claimed that seat too
Late to reside in it,
(Or have it)
And even though I swore it was him, and my habits
Wreaking havoc
On my habitual way of living;
There I was,
Giving
Because
I loved him enough to try.

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