The beast is muzzled
And drooling
And straining at the lead
As if its owner’s
Distrustful eyes
And heavy
Auric clouds
Swirling
In dark stars
Of circumference hatred,
Transfuse
Umbilical
And fill the dog
With lust for blood
And teeth sharp
In every direction.

© Ben Truesdale and distilledvoice, 2015