Obsessed

Your text popped up out of the blue

It said 'I want a little pig'


One of those ones that doesn't grow


You sent me videos of them running in slow motion

I watched them on loop


I pored over the way their pink snouts came up snuffling,

Their little grunts

sniffing out scraps.

I was in a gift-shop, saw a stuffed toy pig


As big as my fist

With a sticker that said press


On his belly


So I pressed and he squealed in delight


And his cotton skin was already faded
 

From sticky fingers who couldn't resist 


He was pink like tongues like a baby's bedroom


I pocketed the little pig


And I squeeze him when I think of you.