Breathing like a wounded animal,

I cover my words with soil and let them rotten,

Until ants eat all the flesh and leave behind just white – clean skeleton,

So you can glue its fur back and force it to dance around you,

(No pay for beasts with plastic eyes is ever expected)

Until its claws fall off, one by one,

And the chain tights around the skin,

(your tradition says this is normal),

When you pet it, I feel lonelier

Then when I was sleeping 6 months underground.