Wolf, I am not. I will sit under a tree,write you poems,read you my favorite books.Come when you don't want tohurt me because you finallybelieve I mean no harm.Don't worry. When you tell menot to fall in love, I usually listen.Can we still laugh together?Can I hear about your days?Can I curl around your body occasionallyand sleep on your chest?Will you let me touch your scars?Tell me about how you got each of themfighting your way into becoming who you are.Wolf, do not hide your crazy from meor your sadness, or your anger. Go and call it darknessand I won't approach itif you are not by my side.Here’s today. I promise it’s all thatmatters if we write a story wewon't be ashamed of telling. How we do it, again and againchanging the beginning,because we cannot agree onwho approached whom first.Wolf, wake up.The most beautiful part of youis your path. Whether or not youwalk it out loud, let me do it with you.
This is stellar, Kenia. I always enjoy the opportunity to read your poetry which has always been an inspiration to me. I love this description all the more because i have two Great Danes, a black male and harlequin female and loving them is like loving this wolf of yours.
ReplyDeleteThank you Kerry. You probably don't know how important your words are to me. I'm coming back to writing slowly. I'm still not confident enough I can communicate my feelings. I'm so glad you enjoyed it. <3
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