I have searched for such a long time
for a beast I have yet to find.
So I'll ask you
If you were a dove in a cloud of ravens
swirling as just one animal
would you deliver me safely
to your nest in the morning light?
And if you were a herd of ponies gathering
and I twisted my fingers into your mane
would you carry me on your back
or trample me under your hooves?
And if you were the claws and the fangs
of a pack of wild wolves
would you keep me prisoner in your cave?
Would you teach me the proper way to live my life?
And if you were a swarm of newborn spiders
and I lay in your mother's silken trap
could I be the first flesh on which you dine?
On which you dine?
I have searched for such a long time
for a feast I have yet to find.
So I'll ask you
If you were the axe of the executioner
and I painted a new line for you on my face
would you carve me gently
right between my eyes?
If you came in disguised as desire
and I slipped my hands beneath your dress
would you fight for no reason?
Would you open your thighs?
And if you were the keeper of the constellations
would you invite me to visit you up in the sky?
Would we walk together, indivisible,
our movements making new maps in the night?
I felt like a burden and ran away. I apologize.
I won't follow the footprints you've left.
I will recover until I can recognize
the taste of the feast,
and the face of the beast I have yet to find.