You appear suddenly from the grasses,
Up close and already prying the person
Open at the tongue.
This is a hunt without injury;
It is a gift you give, getting right in
With a wild wedge
Of all kinds of language.

Then I hear you pry
yourself apart.

When you growl and wail
About the countless injuries
Settled in your bones
Against the love of life,
It sounds to me like you’re taking them
In your jaws and shaking them.

Then you’re off,
Back into the grasses,
Bounding away in the ripples
Of a coat of arson,
Caught again by life
In the next burnishing
Liquid gold lunge at it