Wolf

We fall in a closed heap
Sugar flare flowers
We read a frailty in the cave that bonds us
A small wolf dances in the twilight
We watch its burning teeth
It appears hopeful
A kindly means to cajole and practice
We are called to wine
A blight upon the earth
Cringe and wild
Burning dreams
We fall in a closed heap
Sugar flare flowers
All stretched and pulsing
Hair a tangle
Stomach in knots
We pat the wolf and say goodbye.