At first I'd thought you were a sparrow,
your sweet words making me snuggle up to you
when I had no one else.
Then I thought you were a mustang,
for how else could you have taken me so far from home?
Later, you could've only been a porcupine
for you were stuck under my skin, pinned to my thoughts.
But was that a bear snarling at me,
a serpent hissing silver words?
No—for a sparrow cannot have talons,
a mustang is without fangs.
Against my better judgment I clung
to a hornet who stung me whenever I drew near.
I left, blistered, bleeding, vowing never to see my
But surely you had to have been a path
for I keep coming back to you
no matter how hard I try to run away.