…wail

I can hear your wail,

can you hear mine?

It’s distant and patient

and you are my distance

patiently waiting,

wailing, and the reason

‘myths’ is so hard to

say is because there is

only one, and the cats

are crying especially the one

who looks like a

tiger because it’s summer

and we’re both sweating

and getting older

but time is fiction

if you choose to

believe it like I do.

Your wail makes me

shudder, shiver, grin

like the fucking tiger cat

with too many teeth, each

one stained with

old mistakes, the past, but

reminders are good so keep

wailing, keep listening,

I’m all ears and tail

but this tale is timeless,

it’s that one myth

about a lunatic

and a madman who

rocked all night until

the world ended and

the hot trees

ceased their burning,

whispering,

turned to ash

but were

never quiet

again.

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