I think I'd like a life with no speaking; only rubbing against each other and other objects.

        —My life is filled with animals,  

kittens born and dying dogs,

  why not become one soon?  

          —I am crawling on the floor,  

rubbing my head on the couch,  

scratching near the door, splashing

  the water.  

       —So they know we are the same,  

I flick a mouse toy to see how many  

ways it might land by my hand. 

  So far, it was ten.  

      —Can animals count? Or do they?  

Perhaps a general "There are many dangers  

crossing the street," or "There are few scary  

   things in her yard."  

       —I'd rather be able to count but choose  

not to. So I could only say, there are many  

texts from my friend whose dog is dying,  

instead of a number that changes by  

  the hour.  

      —If I were an animal, I wouldn't know  

an hour or a minute, only a day with light  

and dark and a beautiful gradient of sun  

  in between.  

    —As animals do not think, "She will feed us 

in 30 minutes,"  instead only one concept:

'soon', for the sun sets behind her house,

      now. 

  Now, for me?

  I AM HUMAN, SO IT'S TIME TO FEED.