He saw the creature in me;

The bestiality of my brow,

and he heard a growl between

the syllables of

my name.

 

You, the carnivore,

I, the nomad;

though green roots

under the skin on my feet

say otherwise:

stay.

 

Stay, with me.

Against me,

swoon me with your scent,

your arched back,

and your pouncing eyes.

Lurk in the shadows

amongst their kind.

 

Tear me apart so I know 

it’s real. 

 

Maul me,

dig for bones under my flesh.

Envelope me like the stream does

the shore;

erode my shallow thoughts.

Crave my pulse.

Want nothing more,

omnivore.

Sing my body.

Curse my soul,

In the end I’ll be

the grass between your toes;

 

The echo of your roar.

Contact Maria Cherwien at [email protected].