Bicycle trails
and broken branches,
one plays the swordsman,
the other the villain,
and in the evenings,
winter catches us again.

We strike their paws awake,
and their fangs tear and pull us,
underneath curtains of snow.

Bloodtrail leads for miles,
to the forest’s edge,
where they find us,
mixed in with the animal,
one jawline leads to the other,
the air just perfect.