it’s the night that makes you brim with it, from the mouth, no the chest, something broken and steely there, something with edges. you were never the girl, you were never the boy, only a dog sniffing by the pond for the scent of some fucking that was beyond you, lithe lovers skinny dipping and now drowned. you were always only the dog, nose in the dirt, choking on the wet grass, without an owner, without a home, hungry.