When the moon is big like a sinking ship in the sky, glimpsed just so through the perfect corona of the tunnel, we’ll still howl out together sometimes, the wolves and I.
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Down here, I think I might actually regain my strength if Ives doesn’t win over the others. His howl so different, guttural with menace. When he howls out, it’s as if he’s worshipping not the light of the moon but the carbon black that always threaten to swallow it whole: mad-still, ragged and furtive at its wearied edges.
When the moon is big like a sinking ship in the sky, glimpsed just so through the perfect corona of the tunnel, we’ll still howl out together sometimes, the wolves and I.
​
Down here, I think I might actually regain my strength if Ives doesn’t win over the others. His howl so different, guttural with menace. When he howls out, it’s as if he’s worshipping not the light of the moon but the carbon black that always threaten to swallow it whole: mad-still, ragged and furtive at its wearied edges.
When the moon is big like a sinking ship in the sky, glimpsed just so through the perfect corona of the tunnel, we’ll still howl out together sometimes, the wolves and I.
​
​
​
​
​
​
​
​
​
​
Down here, I think I might actually regain my strength if Ives doesn’t win over the others. His howl so different, guttural with menace. When he howls out, it’s as if he’s worshipping not the light of the moon but the carbon black that always threaten to swallow it whole: mad-still, ragged and furtive at its wearied edges.