what thick skin you have.
Better than a red cloak any day
if youll forgive me,
can you feel anything through that layer? Can you feel
woods that pull like tides
toward potent damp and fur and call like sirens to just
into the trees?
much faster than I.
I never got so far as the door
before that heated roughness took hold and I tell you
in that first crashing instant,
I would have given my grandmother
only tells tales of flashing eyes and
teeth. Mama only tells of claws.
I never knew how it feels
to be swallowed. To be drawn down
into dark beast-bellies where a new path forms
and your flesh is exposed
tender and yielding.
Where you would never scream a shrill wish
you would never cry for roots.