Drag me out of the lake
before it ices
pull my recalcitrant arms
out of their doll sockets
pop pop
goes the farmers gun
hush little rabbits
don’t make a sound
blood is russet against wire
you scrape me void
embed the need
we spin in crystalized catkin
my dress is smothering your
bad notion
starve out the longing
makes you so evil
green glass raised to
moon without
give me one sharp pinch
wake without princes touch
water logged
heavy to the touch
too fast in spin
blackness is a blot of goodness
on the tip of my finger
swallow me
I’m intoxicate
i’ll wake you from the drum
beat you heady into rhythm
let’s jostle for position
ending up rubric on well-worn floor
here the songs consume me
follow the leader
all fall down
watch blooming plague taste our spite
survivors don’t speak loud
hush
I’m so heavy
with the seed you’ve sewn
I could burn
red as a fox
cast in snarl
hijacked amygdala 
Reblogged this on thefeatheredsleep.
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Darkly sensual. Love it.
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Couldn’t resist reading it again
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Stunning. What great imagery and sensations. Very well done!
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Foxes are actually one of my favourite creatures, so as you can imagine this is one of my absolute favourite pieces by you, C. Thank you for writing this! 😀
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‘i could burn red as a fox.’ unnerving yet moving.
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See, this poem proves the world is a backwards place. I get to read it here, yet, “What does the Fox Say?” has 637 million views.
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I could burn
red as a fox
cast in snarl
Great ending, powerful empathy
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