Gauze Panther Mourning Period
I finally did it! I finally did it! No I did not,
I am sorry for lying, beast. I am sorry you’re dead,
especially in those parts you decried wilder in me
with your elemental mysteries: jigsaw stippled tongue,
your wild heart wilting, your sandpaper scalp under your hot fur,
your wild eulogizing brain engine we must’ve forced in you.
Even if I woke in the night to kill you
and found you dead, I would’ve waited for the sun with bated breath.
But I didn’t have that luxury. Even if I wake
mid-afternoon to the taste of your fetid wounds
and your dew claw digs into my shoulder distending from battle,
I will keep the tiny totem you I carved
curséd in my pocket. Bring you out
at the strange board meetings I attend
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