Let the wolves circle. I never doubted you. Even now, your spine presses against mine; your blood pulses in my veins. I clench my fist, oath-scarred and full of rage. “You ready?” I hear your feral grin and nod. “Let’s do this.” http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6Cp6mKbRTQY
The steady thump-thump-thump of the watchdog's tail chases me from my dreams. I never sleep unguarded on a full-moon night. But there are dangers, and there are dangers. "I was wondering when you would wake," said the Lady who harrows my heart.
If she asked, I’d pull down the moon for her, climb the slender stair that stretches the length of my longing to pluck it from the sky. But even this well-worn path measures only half the distance between her heart and mine.
When we were small you pushed my Radio Flyer down the hill. It landed in the brook, dented and wheels up. I dragged that broken thing around until it fell apart. Should have guessed then what you would do to my heart.
Blue plate special
He only cooks when he's angry. Seared scallops. Chicken, breaded and pan-fried. Anything that sizzles, to drown out my excuses. Tonight it’s steak, blackened, medium-rare. He serves it up in silence and I eat. Each mouthful tastes like ash. Each bite burns.