soft animal

The Animal

the beast the wild one the she-wolf

It was written, I suppose, that you came to me. Crawling from under the rubble. Creeping from out the cave - and bringing me home. Here, I found myself in my warmest pockets, tucked away from the people, the stories of their woes. I wrote out stories of my own - tales of my power - epics of my bones, my darkness, my sex. Here, I held myself close. Alone it became easiest to love all of me. I became golden. I was made fierce. The soft animal of my body loved what it loves, and I let her run free. After I stroked her hair and sang her to sleep. Paradoxical though it was, I was unleashed - in this cave. I softened as an animal, I became wild in my silence. Beastial in my zen. The fire of my being took on many new forms. As the fire is ever-changing - everlasting - evermore. So too is my role as the animal. It will be with me for as long as I float.