Chimera
Ruth Awad
I climbed each rung of your ribs
and my foot passed through room
you made for me inside an hour of rain.
Because I’m hunger and flame, I circle
you like rope circles an animal circles a tree.
My teeth are sharp with a new taste
and every exit looks like a place I’m going.
A claw digs into earth and becomes the earth.
You would have me gnaw my own ankle free,
but my shoulders against a stand of pines
remember where my wings once seared.
Two blades under hide. Set to music, a wildfire.
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