The Melting of Ice (Part 1)
Tapestries of clouds
swirl before night’s curtain
like a paintbrush
eased across the canvas,
streaking the moon
as a winged silhouette soars past,
the wolf in me stirs.
Sight changing over
I spot it
swooping back from the south.
There is a white sheen
being reflected off its skin by the moon
and a pearlesque
from the feathers in the wings.
Closer it comes
And I notice its female
my heart beats,
I thought that
would never happen again,
but there it is,
fluttering under my breastplate.
I can feel my limbs warm
as old blood
begins to slide through vessels
thought
to have rotted away long ago
and as she prepares to land
my muscles tense,
body preparing to flee,
mind pausing out of curiosity.
With one last swipe of her wings
she pulls her body perpendicular to the ground
toes caressing the earth
like a lovers touch,
skin almost glowing in the light,
fangs glistening
as a blood drop falls
from a fresh feeding.
I feel the fur raise on my hunched back
as I pull myself erect,
stretching my shoulders
forward and back,
realigning my spine,
my features stay lupine
but my physiology more human
than it been in years,
and I notice
this one approaches
undauntingly,
bluish gray eyes
tearing into my soul.
This causes a pause
mind glaring for understanding,
as my paws slide forward
but once within a few feet
my forgotten soul explodes forth
from its little crypt
I created for it
When I became the forsaken
(of my own choice).
I taste
The beautiful irony taste of blood
In my mouth
And realize
I’m biting my own lip.
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