Wrong way, not about you
and me, but not about to forget
your rough grip, your vice-filled
eyes. Try disremembering
the hues: try to avoid the bricked
up window of your heart–
too tragic to ignore; obvious
outline, pale patching around
core. Lioness phase of me
wants to carry you to a fireside
den, but the snake cycle is in full
spin: venom-heavy moon,
or the dark side without hands.
Find the one who plays off inadequacies
and realize she’s the hunter,
under moonlight, she is hidden truth.
Surrender assumption black waves
and black sky part somewhere, look closer.