you slouch too much 
 your bones turn into fangs  
guilt permeates your muscles  
a dog cuts itself to relieve an itch  
metal bars cage your heart in  
it suffocates you, but the key is already disintegrating in your stomach  
wolves without teeth are still dangerous  
or so they say  
the wolf weeps when it's alone  
it no longer hears the music of the trees  
inscribed on its fur is the poetry it writes 
 the moon and the sun judge with their light  
the shadows reprieve  
to bare your fangs and to smile look the same in darkness 
 self talk means nothing if your ears are filled with coins
  i serve my stringy meat on a plate made of my marble bones  
its magic, the food doesn't spoil as quickly  
i am liquid in a forest pooling on a leaf eaten by caterpillars 
 a howl is caught in my throat tearing my vocal cords as it is forced out  
an emperor attempts to soothe a gladiator, bruised and beaten, bleeding all over his marble floor  
disgust, hidden in the eyes of the emperor, stop him from caring  
the blood turns to wine, and the gladiator laps up his reward 
  the servants know the clean up will be tiresome    

they wipe their feet and hands on a wolf skin rug