Jessica could, would I be able to if I could walk on all fours, and grow a tail
Now Jessica, could you tell me? Cocoma was your elder sister, she took her secrets to the grave, like I would
But then you don't tell me either, maybe I raised you both too well to guard those secrets, but then now I am without you both
My allergies have gone, they are replaced by hypertension and depression
I find my guava cheese doesn't have random fur strands, clean , but no longer how I remember them
Back then when my skin had random scratches, from either of you turning around in sleep, I would still not wake, now I can't sleep
Please tell me, how do I see the world you are in, this one where I am in seems meaningless
I can offer you some cheese, the tax I have always offered when I would cook
Cocoma would make those eager noises, and I miss your tail playing the washing machine like a drum in excitement
Is there a waiting period?
Or do we three continue to exist like so, separate, while I still cannot be declared clinically dead, yet my soul seems to have with its last flickering captured and imprisoned
Kept away from wanting to join you both and play
Are you girls going to ever tell me, any sooner? Maybe?
Cocoma : my spitz
Jessica : my labrador
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