Her Whole Heart Had Fur

The cushion still holds your shape I can't bring myself To fluff it out You were there the night the papers came Curled up on the boxes marked with his name You learned the sound of crying through a door And every time, you answered it — pawed it open, crossed the floor The waiting rooms, the bad-news drives You rode them all on my passenger thigh They say "just a pet" Like the word just ever held you But my whole heart had fur, didn't it, sweet thing You were the pulse of this apartment, the answer when nothing would ring Ten pounds of warm against the worst years of my life You didn't fix a thing — you just stayed every night And the world calls that small My whole heart had fur, that's all You knew my key in a hallway of keys Met me at the door like a small ovation Through the chemo months you never left the bed Your chin on my wrist like an anchor, like a meditation The smell of your fur after sun through the glass — I'd give a year of anything to get one breath of that back They say "you can get another" Like another ever held me 'Cause my whole heart had fur, didn't it, sweet thing You were the pulse of this apartment, the answer when nothing would ring Ten pounds of warm against the worst years of my life You didn't fix a thing — you just stayed every night And the world calls that small My whole heart had fur, that's all Someday I'll tell somebody new "I got through the hardest years" — And they'll picture some friend, some therapist, some town They'll never guess you. Small and stubborn. Fur and bone. The reason the dark years didn't take me down My whole heart had fur — I'll say it plain You were the pulse of this place, the soft weight against the pain Ten pounds of brave against the worst years of my life You never fixed a thing — you just stayed every night Let the world call it small You were my heart, fur and all The cushion keeps your shape So do I So do I