Friday, December 2, 2011

The Mistress of the Hunt

You come
to me
in
dreams
evoke
scent memory
of
blood
and
candy
and
grilled cheese
sandwiches
of
autumn
leaves
of
childhood
sweet
and
terrifying
innocence
gone
terribly
wrong

I wrap
you
in
blankets
of
wool
heavy
and
strong
I
wrap
you
in
a
cloak
of
bear hide
strong
bones
and
terrible
claws
and
teeth
that could
tear
a
man to
shreds
without
effort

I
wrap you
in
eye
contact
I
take aim
I
will not
miss
I
cannot
miss

You
cloak
me
with
your
belief
and
trust
an
arm
wrapped
snugly
around my
shoulder
you
wrap me
in
unshakeable
faith
you
know the
words
I
need
to hear
I
am
innocent
this
time

We
wear
our
war paint
on
the
inside
streaks
of
fire
and
bruises

We
wear dirt
on
our
skin
leaves
cling
to our
matted
hair
our
bare
feet
calloused
and
strong
from
the journey

We emerge
from
our
secret
hiding place
victorious
mistress
of
the hunt
our
arrows
have
all been
spent
weary
and in need
of
rest
and
respite

Tonight
we
will
eat well
and
rest
deeply
forehead
to
forehead

Hunting season is over.

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