the missed spaces, the missed places, the missed times, the missed rhymes, the missed persons I could have been or will be, the fear that restricts me, the choices that elate me, the food that prolongs, the life that kills and opens and winds up and scares and tears and screws, inspires and heightens and pitches and rolls and drowns and crowns and takes hold of and molds and breaks and pours into and empties and burns.

and here we steal away together

recorded -.10.16

She-wolf from the southern mountains

Your clawed scratch

Wakes me.

Why did you roam north

Tearing at the earth, your coat thickening with each progressive latitude?

 

You were hungry for a rarity which was slowly defining itself.

You moved across the land, in solitude

Met only by desirous eyes

No beast approached you, for fear of your singularity.

So you turned those eyes back towards them, infused now with an empathy

An ignorant offering those strangers gifted you.

 

We each pick up our implements

Imbue them with love or hate.

We rustle past one another, in the thick darkness of an ancient forest.

We sense each other, in the polished glass waiting for light to reveal its mirror.

Too rarely do we reach through the underbrush and breathlessly wait to witness

Whether we will be received by tongue or by teeth.

 

The She-wolf approaches a vast herd of black sheep

We are a purple blanket cloaking the northern marshes.

This land breathes an autumnal fog

So thick we need only to drink the air, as moss does.

The She-wolf sucks fog between tongue and teeth, tasting the herd, dreading they might run.

 

Your clawed scratch tests the surface of our skin

You ask methodically with tongue and teeth and lips

If you might swallow a piece of us.

We willingly sacrifice our fear to you and discover through the ritual

That a new dis-order is forming

The most rare of arrangements which is spawned from near destruction

The most rare of arrangements in which all who partake have chosen their place.

recorded 31.3.18

recorded 4.3.18