Gristle
Jai Britton

never take the feeding
out of the frenzy, for there is rage
in competition, bared teeth
for territory, blood
within lust.

coyotes climb my back
to get at the stink of loyalties,
the gristle of dedication,
the torn skin flap
tasting of my lover’s arm
dangling from my mouth.

i have no collar
which to tame him, nor thorny brush
to keep. still

my side he does lay
and we whisper of predators
until noon, our mouths red
with slaughter.