What Little Boys Are Made Of
The snail is full of himself.
In a good way. Self-contained. Persistently forging new mucous tracks, like a tank going over, not around. Birds see tiny Nazca lines.
It’s hard to see the same sense
of purpose in a slug. Just squelch and flaccid shrivel. But mating leopard slugs entrance with their balletic coiling, on a dangling string of slime.
On the subject of slobber,
the Labrador leaves a lot when his head rests on your knee. Eyes yearning for love — and food. Thumping tail wag. Solid dog. Full of girth, bound and nuzzle.
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