Red Teeth

By the light at dawn,

I see red on her teeth.

She’s been hunting and

Now she grins at me, but

I am still so smitten.

Surely, I won’t be wounded

By those needlepoint canines.

She’s finally coming home, and

I welcome her, but

I am still so blindly dumb.

We embrace and dance,

Ecstasy breathes like air, I feel

Sharp pinching, and as I

Rub my neck, my hand is red.

I am still so hunted.

But it didn’t happen like that.

I was played like a beginnings fiddle.

Strung along and then tossed aside

like the wasted parts at the butchers.

I am still naive.