The Trouble with Wild

The Trouble with Wild

The trouble with Wild?

I want him too hard.

He's mixed with instinct,

And not without scars.

He grew in the tumult,

And came to me raw.

He baptized me splendor,

When I thought me flawed.

The desert became,

As a revered home.

Found rest in the spaces,

Bleached as bone.

Locked in the fortress,

Of walls made from sand.

The rule became barren,

And echoed the land.

Yet there, behold thee,

Like a ring on the moon,

Like a ring on a tree,

And a crescent of blue.

He came to me wild,

I christened him free.

He set me as much,

And he reached toward me.

A wind in the breach,

The eyes offered then.

They worked to assault,

The scales of my skin.

For scales became shell,

And sealed me inside,

No letting out.

Abandon denied.

The trouble with Wild?:

Does he want me as well?

Do secrets in forests,

Ever promise to tell?

I crawled and I crawled,

I won't go back again.

Splendor my splendor,

And please let me in.

-CaS

04.16.16