My Wolf

Cloaked in wool, you are divine.

Your crystal eyes shine green as spring.

My meager words may ruin, poor

spirit have I. Want for words to sing….I

love you. I walk you through the snow

to lakes of ice that snatch the sun.

I hold your face, my heart aglow,

and kiss with love that’s meant for one.

On the shim’ring glass we lie

You lie.

Makeshift cloven hooves crumble

into claws that strike

strike

strike strike then….kiss.

A tide of viscous red oozes from my heart.

It ripples across the lake. Your ruthless

rotten exhale becomes the wind. You bend over

me with your chest heaving

and inhale my blood.

I wish– I don’t– want to die

but it was I who failed to unmask

the wolf.

I let him strike.

The ice is cracked, the lake, it bleeds

it breaks and how could I have known

that I was but a feast he groomed to feed

his glutton belly.

My wolf of wool, your grip so firm,

why do I beg you to return?

Madelynn Struck