The white moon whispers. Hot, delirious
power hums beneath my skin - a flooding
urge an ache like love a hit raw lust
a sudden salty rush of blood in
my mouth. The night is alive with desire
it’s all too much, too bright, each blade of grass
each rock each tree outlined in silver fire
my head is full of it, my breath too fast
heart pounding...oh love, I’m going under
in the pale moon’s wake to where wolf dreams he’s
man. The scent of your fear feeds my hunger
for you - I’ll close, paws soft on fallen leaves
for though I fight it off as best I can
sometimes the wolf is stronger than the man.