lioness eats a bull

wake up for warm impact.
dinosaur dust overture-rising.
with the lions sick & gorged on sun, 
i wait. disciple of skin.
patient for the split point.
hoof to dusk. my jaw: horned
& gleaning. the fissure knocks 
through me. fist to earth.
nothing spinning but each iris.
pluck bull from his own heart.
wild search lights eyes
& telephones face. already too late.
all the hooves in the world:
tumbling hale. i was made
to dismantle even the twilight hours.
underneath everything is the same
torrent red impulse. 
he writhes & i think of the children
in their fresh moon teeth
how the meat will look jeweled 
in purse-throats. this isn't
about devour or decore though 
this is about the legs buckling
& my own pressure. i kill whatever river
i desire. everything is a choice
between water or blood. 
don't wait for permission. don't wait 
for weakness. the bull 
believed himself a god. let his horns
swell heavy & ripe. sometimes i fear
i will eat so many that i will be cursed
with a horn--one so big it weighs
my head to the ground. check my face
for signs in the drinking pool. 
nothing to be affraid of. there is
a swallow in the sky. a place to eat again 
with our bracket-legs doing gym 
for the same prey. 
the still animal becomes nothing but heft 
with no soul to do the puppeting. 
i bite first for myself. thick skin 
pryed open. i work to distort 
the solar system 
buzzing inside. keep that 
cavern for myself. check my face
again for a horn. 

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