Wolfish

your voice sent shivers along my skin,
a wolfish whisper outside my door
that i wanted so badly to let in.
you huffed and puffed, you laughed and sighed-
my brick wall had crumbled,
but i didn't care at the time.
the threat of your bite,
though, still weighed on my mind-
neat little rows of tiny sharp knives,
ready to scar.
"watch out for my back," you said,
"that's where the sharpest teeth are."
i felt no danger when i touched your face,
i feared no attack while within your embrace,
but i learned the truth of that warning
when you left me one day;
strangely silent
after our final retirement
on the dewy hillside,
having just watched the sky
with our fingers entwined.
yet you breezed frigidly past,
and the teeth in your back snapped
shut on my heart. you continued to leave,
but i was too startled to think
of any reasons why you should have stayed.
It's quite some time later,
now; my scars have just faded
into strong metal bars
reinforcing my wall,
never to crumble like it did once before.
you'll be the last wolf to get past my doors.









I feel as if this one is abnormally lengthy, for some reason.
Oh, fun fact!-
"Watch out for my back, that's where the sharpest teeth are," is an actual quote from a true life experience.
I thought it was an odd thing for him to say, but it's really been quite inspiring.