Wolf
I wish I were my intestines;
they are needed by someone.
She is every organ.
Once, I ached to be her
friend, fur shed, toenails
clipped, emerald eyes.
Red cloth from her cap wedged
in the crevices of my teeth,
wedged in the crevices of my brain.
No longer am I alone,
my stomach the shelter
for my new companion.
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