expansion

impact craters sit in the ribs, grief blooming– detonating into fur & tendon / our bodies splitting open not to die but to make room for the others / claws cutting through the old skin of civility / the moon low & mean above us // it pulls us toward it // we are low, too / running / mouths open to taste the night / and as the sirens call out to us / we gather in a dark lot / humidity pooling ‘round our muzzles, pressed-together / and we trade / the labels they spit at us / violent, pervert, monster / passing them between our teeth until they taste like prayer / like meat / like the only language worth keeping // yes: we press our blood-warm bodies together / becoming embedded in one of other / learning the smell of each other’s fears / and absorbing them // our worlds have been run through meat grinders, exsanguinated / and spit back out / and we teach ourselves to set new bones / from the pulp of the old // there is no assimilation here, no filing down the fang // we draw closer to each other / muscle on muscle / hunger braiding until it’s one long pulse // we are choosing sameness // our ears flick about / hackles rise with the moon / legs restless / passion building, settling into each other’s names / roles / lives / the air around us alive, too / rumbling with a need to move / and we spill back into the night // our shadows dragging long behind like warnings / our need synced / survival no longer a lone thing / death no longer a private thing // no, this isn’t metaphor, it’s paw prints across their marble floors / molted skin left on their steps / the heat of our backs pressed together / and the chorus of raw throats / calling the rest of the pack home