the dark grows cool and i shall chill in night
my fingertips to grasp the soil as claws
suppressed the coils of rage twisted so tight
unfurl and snap between my aching jaws

my hair it brushes tingling my back
my breasts swing freely soaking in the moon
i hope that i'll return to find the track
but thoughts begin to blur it's coming soon

a jackal comes along and stares at me
then disappears into the darkened bush
some tiny bug is crawling on my knee
and letting it do so is quite a rush

the beetle will on some day clean my bones
and turn my flesh to feces in the ground
the worms accordian play softest tones
perhaps plucked by a bird the second round

and if i do not win the lottery
to be the stronger sparrow in the nest
my fall and feeding roots of some great tree
would compensate for failing the flight test

but as for now the woman here must breathe
the air untainted by society
to let the beast within her howl and seethe
despite her temporal humanity

for man is so the beastliest of beasts
and woman is the mother of the kind
thus she who knows her place in nature's feast
it's she who guards his soul and frees her mind

i step into the land of gray cement
and all too soon the wax has turned to wane
the wolf inside has silenced her lament
until the next moon quickens her again