Nineteen Twenty-six

I bit it open to see my heart

reflected within the eyes of a wolf.

Canines that played games with a coney,
not aware that it knows. It knows.

It stands its ground, muffled and stuttered,
acquiescing under the pressuring song.

The words bloom upon the moonlight's shutters,
for the ensnared ones to feast upon.

And once the beast decides to keep quiet,
it chews deep down guts, chest and bone.