werewolf: an origin story

first kiss--
first hand slide down
the back of my jeans--
first boy who
left his shadow 
plastered on
brick walls--
oh, is there always a first
of everything?
a first human & egret 
& blue whale?
each a handfuls of bones 
finding each other--
following sinews &
together
taking a deep ragged
breath-- jaws 
snatching a fist
of air--
all the animals
birth from the
collaboration 
of carbon--
born from god's
great wooden spoon--
who stirred you?
measured you 
out into the metal
mixing bowl--
i remember the small 
soft hands of my 
mother as she kneaded
down dough on the floured
counter top--
let the yeast inhale--
taller & taller
i think werewolves
of are different--
less of a species
& more a kind of 
organ-- a kind
of midnight--
he had a way
of chewing me
when we kissed--
a way of breaking
me down to 
bite-sized pieces--
horderves--
my bones were
a bag of marbles
& in my room 
was the first place
i felt the howl--
starting
beneath the skin-- 
a sort
of quake in each
hair follicle--
an involuntary 
refusal of silence--
ripped open my lips--
howling till
my windows shattered
& the moon too
was an open mouth
biting between
hot hot stars--
spitting them
out as fire--
once this began
i could feel
them stalking 
inside him-- 
their yellow eyes
& thick thick 
brown fur--
they were there
in the way he 
grabbed me by
a handful of hair--
in his parasitic
kisses across
my neck & the 
heavy animal
smell of his bare
body-- 
our sweat in the summer
was a kind of
rain-- in it
thunder & the 
baying of dormant fur--
i could see
his canines only
as white flashes
as he came up for
air from inside me--
this is in fact
a first love poem--
this is in fact about
the betrayal 
of our own skin
& the mischievous
laugh of full moons
& the clawing
that paced
until they scratched 
open our chests--
there was a strength
to his grip
that was at times
inhuman & 
at times gentle
& unknowing--
i let my body
fade into a comma--
a coiled pause
on the floor of
a bed room 
no longer my own--
i love my werewolf--
i love how she 
taught me 
how to drink 
the white milk
of the moon--
shouted my
skin monstrous 
& unafraid--
a kind of howl
that snapped
the necks of
all the trees he
had ever made me
fuck him under--
& still when
i feel small
sometimes i howl--
shake the earth
just enough
to remind myself
how loud my body
is-- oh this
is a story about
how monstorous
you are--
this is a story
about the moon
& a story 
about watching for
the flash of
his sharp canines--
eyes yellow
as candles