wolf-fingers

 

last night i dreamt of wolf-fingers at my neck
and you screamed in fear for me
when you should have been in fear for yourself
i did not dread its coming

i don’t understand my power
and its affect
i see only its results
the B connected to nothing
i look over my shoulder but A is nowhere in sight
ask any mother
the shortest distance between two points
is a scream and a heartbeat

my fingers cold in this place perched above
the river and train
the one silently running beside the other
that used to wake me at three am
in a fright of noise
that tommy b hears in his literary heaven
several blocks south and loves so

it is only recently that i sleep through the night
except when the nightmares
and my wolf
come to visit

and in quieter moments
when finally alone and unencumbered by
the emotions of others
i try and listen for my own faint drumming
that dictates in smoke-signals of sound
the message of my heart

though it pounds within
i hear nothing but silence
not even the scream

12/12/99.