Sated Soul

Were I born with paws,

would my footsteps move less earth?

Were I covered in fur,

would cotton stay bound to its burrs?

Were my canines sanded flat,

would blood remain in bodies,

Beef on bones?

Were my mind simple,

would there ever be enough?

A squirrel buries bundles of brown nuts.

Deep

Deeper

Deepest

His sniffer looses the scent

when it comes time to

uncover

so again he digs,

and again,

filling the ground with holes

holes                                       holes                                        holes.

Never enough holes

A deer snacks;

teeth endlessly chomping

down saplings and

scraping

the skin from the seniors,

tree after tree.

Never enough trees

Never enough

If I had paws,

I would dig into the Earth,

holes deeper than drills bore.

So I could find a sweeter source

Of sustenance.

Never enough

If I were covered in fur,

surely I’d shave it,

Shape it,

Sell it.

Never enough

Were my teeth too dull to break flesh,

fear not,

for where my teeth failed,

my hands would flourish.

Snapping

Smothering

Strangling

Never enough

Were my mind simple,

there would never be enough

Just as the deer endlessly devours,

desire descends.

Spiraling

Stretching

With each triumph,

deeper destruction.

Until bodies burst

dead with nothing notable.

Vaccinated veins and

vacant vigils.