A peculiar moon rose in the sky, the last night we were together, him and I.
The black wolf sat in the corner, staring at everything with its blank yellow eyes
I had miles to walk and it felt like years until the sunrise.
I kept going, with a rose in my teeth, a pirate on a sea of soil
The wolf came behind me, I could hear the patter of his feet
but just barely
because he is a hunter
and is used to walking quietly.
After some time had passed which I could tell by
the angle of Orion in the sky
I came upon a small stream and glanced into it
and took a bath in my reflection
my ego rising like the moon
my face wet and stoic.
The wolf stared at me, unmoving.
I dried off and kept going
through the brambles of the night
when we came to thistles and swamp
too thick to move through
I closed my eyes and said a prayer
and rode the wolf like a Pegasus
into the darkest corners of your soul.
There I held a mirror to you.
Do you see your face?
Your shoulder? Your jaw?
I set the mirror down.
I began to write in a journal.
Its words like sinews spread
like vines and roots
ink into the abyss
There, in my mind
dark waters bleeding into
the clarity
until all rational expanse was covered
in small explosions and all that I could see
was a glaring white light
the day came
and then it was relief
to find that I held it in my heart
a small locket
I opened it and there
was the starry night
and the silent moon
and the eyes
of the wolf.