Feral Flux

I tried to fit in.

I did.

I tried to sleep in a bed,

To stretch out on linen sheets with the scent of lavender on my skin,  light as a blessing,

Or like snow on the frozen,

Staring straight up.



After a while, I always begin to itch and wear out razors by the pack full,

Every day,

Watching the dirt on my feet turn to pads,

My nails to claws.



I tried to lunch with the ladies.

I swear.

They ordered salads, and I meant to, too,

But before I knew it,

I was skidding across the table with a rabbit in my jaws

And it bled

On the cutlery and the bread,

And I grew nervous

As I lay it down dead and jumped through the plate glass

And into the night.



I tried to be what I saw.

Honestly.

But I have always been so hungry,

So wild,

So other.

I have skulked around garbage cans and allowed housewives to shoo me with brooms.

Now, though,

I will drag one by her dreams to my home dug into the earth.

I will call her by the name of the eclipsed moon.

I will wait for her until she comes barefoot to seek my golden gaze

On the coldest night of the year.



Then,

I will tend as smooth and soft as such things can ever go;

I will speak in the voice I forgot before my earliest memory,

And I will make love with her

This time--

Oh, this time,

Without searching.

_________