everything is
quiet as i
pull the stars down from
night and fold them
gently one by
one
the lazy breeze
yawns against my
neck while i
use my hair to
dust the sky
i pull down cobwebs
of pouty clouds
spread them on
the earth to
be nectar for
things that
crawl
i call to
others with
fire fingers and
we hold our hands up
bent back so far our
hair makes love to the
tree roots we open
so wide together that we
summon the
very
sun
i pulled out
the box of
heartache
and oh how they
palpitated to
be chosen so
many to
admire
each one a different
shape-color-pattern
each one pierced with
hooks i
try heartache on like
earrings
let it dangle and
brush my shoulders
from the sheer
weight
i place heartache in
my hair and heartache
becomes bees
for a
moment
a moment
another
moment and
i eat honey for breakfast
on toast
then neatly put
heartache
away in
my
ribcage
again
i had a dream
of the wolf again
shapeshifter
hearth keeper
heart
healer
long way traveler
den builder
hollow howl
like the sound of
the loneliest
truest train
long and scraggly
from a winter of
rare feedings
long treacherous
hunting
always in a new
territory
with ghost scents
making a good wolf
mad
i dream of the
wolf
at my hip
by the fire
growing fatter
hand fed
all the best
choices
slaked in
intention
brushed with
my own fingers
at night
where there
hangs an opal
on black
velvet
