The Wolf or The Woman

Weird Poetry

Some days, I awaken from a typically dreamless sleep,

And I have breasts and hands and blue human eyes;

I’m a woman on those days.

Other days, I awaken from a sleep full of dreams–

That still I cannot recall but feel forging through my veins and my limbs like a freight train carrying untranslatable metaphors

And I have claw marks etched across my heaving chest like a feral alphabet that bleeds from the mouths of its gaping vowels,

And dried blood caked under long nails that I know I had cut short just the night before.

Some days, my eyes no longer shine glacier blue but storm in wild hot lightening yellow–

A yellow of growling hunger and cached howlings not spent on the moonless night before–

And they rove ravenously over every protruding carotid artery and every flesh-concealed bloodwave throbbing beneath your surfaces.

On those days…

I am more wolf

Than I am woman.




*** You gonna tell us that the wolf is your spirit animal too, Sugar Tits? I know you’re itching to…. ***

*** What do I need a spirit animal for anyway? I’m spirit and animal already. We all are. Some animals just resonate… that’s all. And wolves have been howling inside me for as long as I can recall. ***

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