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Adrienne Rich - Twenty-One Love Poems X
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	X
	
Your dog, tranquil and innocent, dozes through
	our cries, our murmured dawn conspiracies
	our telephone calls. She knows—what can she know?
	If in my human arrogance I claim to read
	her eyes, I find there only my own animal thoughts:
	that creatures must find each other for bodily comfort,
	that voices of the psyche drive through the flesh
	further than the dense brain could have foretold,
	that the planetary nights are growing cold for those
	on the same journey, who want to touch
	one creature-traveler clear to the end;
	that without tenderness, we are in hell.
	 
	 
	 
	 
	 
	 
	 
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