I am an avalanche in need of containment. A horse in need of harnessing to truly run free.
A wild bunny, frightened and feral, eating all the flowers and wrecking the yard. I run out of food.
What good is a dam if it doesn’t direct the river to slow for the beaver’s pond?
What houses can be built on shifting sands? Castles that fall when the tide comes in. Glass mansions that shatter in the wind.
Is your might enough to bind me with the tether of your desire? Could you tie me to the fencepost of your hunger?
Am I docile enough for you to crave, or am I too wild to get a hold on?
Is my affliction too big for you to override? Does my suffering make you smaller than your size?
A lion sees a teacup kitten in the mirror. A hawk finds a plover staring back at him in the lake.
A caterpillar doesn’t know he’s a snake.
Is it really so much for me to ask you to take me? What are you afraid of?
Am I really just the berries for the dove, lush and plump and easily pierced by reckless talons? Why do you shy away?
What if the flesh of my fruit and my juices need to be found under my skin? Could you dig in?
If I need to be overcome, could you want me that much? Enough to abduct me from the clutches of pain?
Give me a potent enough experience to steak your claim and overwhelm the agony. Or does that trigger your shame?
Don’t you want to be free? Can you liberate your true nature through me?
Take my body for your vessel, a channel for your animal to infuse. What have you got to lose?
Culture convinced you to be meak, but I know what you are.
You are no diamond, but a flaming star, ready to seize the night. Be too timid and you lose your light.
Feed your fire and blaze brightly as you aught. For you are not a match, but a furnace. I need your heat and your sureness.
I will not resist. Pliable surfaces give to the force of your command.
My skin caves in like a demolition in your hands. I am a crumbling mountain for your nets.
I will fall to my knees if you stand in your glory, for your power is holy. There, my surrender is met.
Overcome me with the story of your conquering triumph. The tale of you unleashed, waking the jaguar to bare his teeth.
My pain recedes in the shadow of your flame like a ghost on the run from the sun, waning with your shame.
Kindling for the phosphorescent spark: the key to seeing in the dark.
Copyright © Sheyorah Naify, 2021