Tell me a story.
It doesn't have to be true.
Speak fables of golden coronets,
tales of jeweled tiaras,
deep violet silks, vows kept,
Pledges made good and whole
Word of hero kept,
taken up to a tall mound,
laid on the stone.
Blood and ash and white clay paste
sanctify the promise.
Crops are planted with this word
Herds tread, graze, chew it over.
Herds kept, herds wild, herds scattered.
Tell me a story of wolves.
Killers, lovers, tearing throats,
tending pups with bloodied mouths.
Wolves appear in dreams where
hares and possums lay very still.
Dark eye will not cry.
Bleed but never break
where the cracks will show.
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