lunacy
The silver moon hung high, alone
And poured its silver light on earth.
I strode in silver steps through black and argent streets
The empty husk of expectant waiting.
The air around was wet with wanting
An open mouth that’s moist with dripping.
From down below the blood is mounting
The ebb and flow is throbbing.
The thrum of something wild grows stronger
The constant beat of beasts in heat.
A melody of grunts and groans
A rising sigh and silent gasping.
And underneath this pulsing song
A lower voice is coming.
The snarl and snap of sharpened teeth,
The gritty growl of my thickened throat.
A sudden hunger for your voice, your love, your self.
But I am alone on a darkling road bedecked with lunar rays.
Where is my love under the waning moon, in whose arms lying?
A bitter howl tears from my wolf’s maw as it eats inside my breast.
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