I need a den full off wolves ready to feed
To arrive in a place where satiation is devoured by
blood, bone and instinct
The sour breath of hunger
Seeping into my skin
From inside out
Seeking sustenance for the moment
Until the feast arrives
I chew on my leg
Numb to the feel or pain
Away I decompose until the scent
Caught in the morning air
Entices the senses to awaken
And body to begin stretching
Exploration and capture
But work first in the weariest of states
Pulling my own carcass up to meet the challenge
I howl inward and outward
Met by echoes and trembling
There is my call to step forward
Into the unknown
Collection and recollection
Can only happen after
I begin to move forward.

August 5, 2013

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