scent and skin and giving in
when instinct takes its turn
breath and bone and coming home
when you finally close your eyes,
a twitch while you sleep, a howling
coming hard at the moon.
the fingers pressed into your hips,
the teeth with a taste for your throat,
a worry of eyes in the pitch of night,
a scruff for a heedless fist.
your meat is the map of my mind,
your mind the illumination to
the mysteries of the moon.
you are the boundless wilderness
the nest I make in forests
found in the ancient depths of
my animal heart. You are my animal
the one I know is true and real.
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