Alone

Todd feeds me from
the point of his pale blade
fresh winter snow and
a frozen escape
we are the words we
speak to ourselves
he says
carrying fresh fish in
a sack from the lake

I am too weak to stand
holding the cold stone
black wolves with black
lips circle in death's
pungent cologne
this crypt is better than
some hotels
he says
I am lost in the scattered
animal bones.

TA