AFTERSHOCK

I felt exactly like the wolf two weeks ago
Exactly primal
Predatory
Celebrational in my anger.

When the moon was glutted with blood
And hanging heavy over hills
It was there inside of me,
That furry other self that wanted out,
That cried for turning skin to pelt,
For racing hard on dark extended legs
To the far side of the trees
Where night was silver tipped 
And still.

My tearing teeth
Sharp against my tongue,
Moistened with the need to wrench a throat,
Rip flesh from flesh from flesh,
To taste the sour sweetness of the kill.
And howl outside selected doors
That primal, earth bound scream 
That gathers souls to grieve in crowds
And other souls to still in sleep
And listen.