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werewolf bones 
by Tianna G. Hansen 


I struggle to leave the house alone. 

as much as I am strong, I have become 

a delicate, nocturnal creature. 

I venture outside to soak my skin in moonlight 

and howl, my voice rising 

like smoke rings in the dark. 

my fingers morph long and sharp, 

claws scraping at the marrow of hollow cheeks. 

I shudder and transform into more than human. Other. 

all jagged edges, shedding smooth curves like snakeskin. 

auburn leaves grow from my head 

like loose strands of hair, flickering in the wind.

they crackle against ears that morph into a point. 

breasts bud beneath a layer of fur. 

I have always wanted to embrace my own wilderness,

take into the palm of my hands a ferocity

known only to the creatures bent into 

bones and blood, away from civilized nature

reliant only on becoming whole. 

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