Tuesday, September 23, 2014


It is common, she thought to herself
the change from her skin into a wolf's fur
underneath the silver moonlit sky, she can howl, four times 
for the different winds and elements 
everything that is under her skin is reason enough of care 
like the spots over her arms and the shadow behind her lip 
she howls again, everything that's been broken was once built
and every night that's been dark is a result of snippets of days 
and so is she, pieces from things little, things strange, things unknown
herself, howling. 

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