Poetry
Poetry - Mature Audience
1 min
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Dreamwolf
Matt Dennison
Dare we invite the dreamwolf in,
to jump through our chaste window,
carry us over the midnight snow
under a far moon?
Dare we—at this stage in the old game—dare
to feel the galloping charge
of hot breath, rough hair?
Outside our window the dreamwolf passes,
hungry, unconcerned with us.
to jump through our chaste window,
carry us over the midnight snow
under a far moon?
Dare we—at this stage in the old game—dare
to feel the galloping charge
of hot breath, rough hair?
Outside our window the dreamwolf passes,
hungry, unconcerned with us.
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