I can’t find a ball
so I grab a lemon from our tree.
It’s round, it rolls, it even
smells like pee, bright yellow
glows in the sun as it shimmies
through grass and dirt
in her paradise backyard.
She catches it in her teeth
oozes out bitter, no treat, and now
she’s confused, what’s this thing
that squirts, a world of doubt
for a mouth that’s never tasted
what we humans squeeze on fish.
She backs off, growls, barks in frustration,
smacks it with her paw,
licks it, pushes it with her nose,
bites its face off
won’t let me take it away.
It’s her lemon now
and there’s nothing left of it to throw.
I’m ashamed I tried to fool her this way.
I was trying to please her in the moment,
by pretending one thing was as good
as something else. We all do it, don’t we?
Tofu is not meat.
Those are not the kisses
that make your heart beat.