it is dark enough

to be dined upon,

as if every motion

were a mouth.

in a forest whose

stomach has expanded

to desolation.

it is there a pack of wolves

surrounded me.

they smelt of burning firewood,

their matted fur popped electric

blue static.

they just kept circling me slowly,

not a growl to be heard.

then in graceful unison, they lowered

themselves to the ground and rolled

over.

exposing their bellies to me, i fell to my

knees and gave each wolf a belly rub

with a hand that felt no longer my own.

minny moons, orb-like replicas began falling...as i

watched some land on the wolves bellies and dissolve.

we out-howled the confines of earthly joy.

above us, that's what she was already

crying with.