Greyhound Claudia

She sits. She looks at you looking at her. She looks away at the butterfly then back at you. You smile, she smiles. She’s Claudia.

Claudia asks what’s in the night sky. You stretched out your hand. She sits. You lift her up. Her eyes twinkle. Stars twinkle.

Jeans waistband twisted origami style became a shape that could be any four legged animal. I stitched onto her a skin of faded black t shirt. Smooth and long, they could be a slender grey dog. But too weak to strike out on her own. They’d need boundaries, in the form of thinned stretch denim, protecting the soft inside surrounding a strong core.