Wolf
Last night, I kissed a wolf.
Blood on his ears, he pointed at blossoms
falling, skies open with bursts of fire,
said the weight of understanding is heavier
than love, that in the chocolate dark, some men
are cowards. They look for motorcycles
to speed out of hell, afraid of dwarfs in trees
or snow geese flying north, anything
they cannot roll between their palms.
They look for a lady to lay their burdens on,
spilling secrets upon her bed sheets
until she is smothered.
Wolves carry pain in their paws, he said:
Come, give me yours.
First Published by Comstock Review
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