We’d barely had time to begin.
I miss him.
It might have been he’d shone a light
And I was taken in
By it,
But when his bark came to
His bite,
I found that it was nothing more
Than an illusory sheen
Laid thin
Upon a gaping hole.
Still,
If truths are stories
To be told,
How I wish
I had not been so bold
To hurt him.