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.