Have you noticed
We move in cycles?
Circling around each other like wolves
In ever tightening spirals?
When we close in, we leap together,
Paws on shoulders; teeth in necks
Invading each other's territory
We separate again and retreat to our corners
Only to start the dance again under the full moon.
Blood is never drawn
The only traces left
Are the tracks of our spirals in the snow
For everyone to see.
Boy, I haven't written a poem in about ten thousand years. At first, writing it felt a little
awkward, like having sex with someone new for the first time, or after a long period of celibacy.
But I got into the groove of it later on, and word choices were easier.
I feel silly and kind of dirty writing this and committing it for other people to see, as MY
poetry tends to come from ugly, raw, bloody emotions, and so I see it as shameful, but the image
lodged itself in my head yesterday morning and it hadn't left since, so I decided to give it a
whirl.
Plus, since it's poetry, and not a song, I don't feel pressure for it to rhyme or have meter, and
it gives me a much needed break trying to think of rhymes for 'beautiful' that aren't 'dutiful',
thanks.