Once you bit your dotted skin with canine fangs
sunk behind lips black,
Where it rippled and burned you snipped
to sooth the itch,
Through your thick fur you left a trail of saliva
and the hair matted betwixt,
Whimpering and chasing rabbits but never sound enough
to chase them far,
The red flesh below your jowls,
Dew claws like Egyptian earrings,
A wet nose at my elbow waiting for your cue to
accompany Dylan’s sad reprise,
As if his voice were a full moon,
And a freight train was pulling into the stock yard,
But look, ho,
Now I am the madman uncontrolled,
My skin a thatch work of red runways for the
talons dull beyond my cuticles,
Never a moment in peace,
A mountain range of red whelps, hills and valleys
along the land mass of my flesh,
When one is satisfied another cries for relief,
Where I cannot reach they cry the loudest,
This body possessed with a devil on fire,
Oceans of insanity breed like rabbits in
the confines of my skull,
They’ll find me howling at the moon,
And pulling the skin from my bones,
Yet look there,
You’re sleeping so peacefully tonight,
Dreaming away the mysteries of your love and loyalty,
Breathing softly and for the first time,
Soundly,
I have to wonder if for some reason
God lifted that curse of endless
itching
from your black and white
shoulders,
And placed it upon mine,
This misery,
This mania,
This delirium,
But there you are next to me,
Curled against my ribs,
I reach to scratch behind my knee
raw from relentless fingernails,
And I think,
I will itch for a thousand years
if I have to
to enjoy this moment with
you.
6.2013