I will pursue you for centuries upon centuries.

I will dig under every rock and stone
And scan every horizon for your shadow.

From wherever my voice speaks
It will fall upon your ears without mercy
And my footsteps will always fall
Inside the labyrinth that traces your own.

Millions of suns will rise and fill again.
The dead will rise and return to death
And there, wherever you are:
Dust, moon, nada; I will find you.

Outside the wind. The streets smell of metal.
Once inside, she abandons everything she’s wearing
starting with the smile and the pocketbook.
She erases all the faces she’s seen all that day,
The missed connections, the feigned serenity,
The sickly-sweet taste of having done her duty,
She undresses herself as if to touch
all the sorrow that is in her flesh.
Once she finds she is naked
She searches herself for her animal scent.
She crouches and lies in wait;
She begins a long tender confidence,
She demands answers, perhaps her eyes have glazed over
She spreads her knees apart and devours herself like a wolf.
Outside the wind. The streets smell of metal.