a throaty wolf

departed curves and mountain

graves are manifested in her

eyes. evergreen clouds interrogating

thawed out palm prints.

through stampedes and mornings combating

my inner wilderness goddesses; i have woken.

to your breathes and the woven of us

and the paranormal into each other. 
we are a compass without any needles, 
hearts beating without salvation.

raven hunter hair and flying dove eyes;

a sigh of painless

relief and a man becomes a throaty wolf.

we are those wolves, my love.