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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