What about the terrible
incongruent existence
of stars and wolves?
To a certain degree
what shines prowls.
What crouches glows
inside itself
within shadows.
How can you love what's cruel?
Under the vigilant night,
her saw-toothed babies cry
with cavernous throats like
deep pools of oily water.
See the pinpoint lights,
strangely attractive, small
diamonds in their eyes
reflect sky.
Do you fear beauty made
of darkness, of sorrow?
The tender heart
is no match
for the claw.
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