Innocence and a Side of Sovereignty






Somewhere between the sunken dark, 

and the moon’s overbearing glow, a shadow 

opening his pants. Artistic some would say. 

Others might spin the scene: intruder, malice

Those are beautiful words, too. Like a ruined 

church can sometimes become artifact; broken 

wall—abandoned—a legion of dust. The language 

used will be that of history. I don’t mind. 

If a deer is still a deer after the coyote 

releases it from its mouth, is it the chase 

that excites the hound? If the coyote 

still hungers, does the deer hold all the power? 

By now, I am eager to be taken, though 

as darkness enters, it is he who belongs to me.