The body the many animals bound, the mind the leash.
The furred monster in your throat that snores in its cave
of dark sleep, and the sedate pigeons of your ruffled,
ordinary hands. The wolf, two large cats, the flamingo.
The desert of your back, my dry mouth, your face an oasis.
Your mouth a neon sign that says Enter. Some nights
you are a safari, by day a petting zoo. I wander through
the brush, surrounded by your beasts, they watch as
I pretend I’m blessed enough to name each one.