Do i think of wolves drawing night across the grounds, leaving us to embrace in this conscripted light?

Baby, you and me are unicorn twins: improbable in our hometowns, drawn across the distance to mate. This is our child, possibility

Baby, in twilight the wolves hide in twill lit by farm implements, complicating the lilting massage of tuned crickets. This is not

Do unicorns get headaches? There’s an art to not spilling coffee, a gingerly stepping, a slow motion pivot. I vote for her freckle

The wolves between us swing slung stomach crashing crack branches transit through our woods now green where your kisses dry wings