Oh, wild coyote,
The moon shines down just for you,
To see its glint on the silvers of your snout.
A melodic hymn dances through an eldritch empty.
It echoes, trees shift, an animal twirls in its sleep.
Subtlety, you called it.
.
Oh, wild coyote,
Shards of ruby slide off your canines,
Slip into your maw.
Lick your lips and leave, you called it.
.
Oh, wild coyote,
I once held you,
Nuzzling deep down,
Unioning to one,
Welded, weathered, welter.
Man’s best friend, you called it.
.
Oh, wild coyote,
I don’t think you’re so wild.
Your tangled pelt, jagged teeth,
They’re nothing.
When they shake you down,
Donkey you dead, hyena in your face,
You’ll cry just like the rest of us.
Nature, you called it.
.
Oh, wild coyote,
You sacrifice your voice to the gale.
It glides to a new land,
Harboring your all.
Left empty, your hollow howl.
Giving, you called it.
.
Oh, wild coyote,
Cavities eat at your fangs.
Erode you inside out.
I stroke your snout,
Almost feeling your ache.
One and the same, you called it.
.
Oh, wild coyote,
I’ll touch my head to yours,
Draw the venom right out,
And shelter it in my depths.
I’m bleached, tarnished, ruined.
As I see your toothy grin,
Your growl rings through me.
Your pelt loses its silk,
As I run my fingers through.
Caught in your mats,
I share my own toothy grin.
You called it.
.
Oh, wild coyote,
I should’ve listened closer,
Pressed my ear to you,
Not the ground.
Because you called it,
All of it.
I’ve lost you, my coyote.
.
Overtaken,
I imagine us
Intertwined,
And I’m wild too
Oh, wild coyote.
