There Will Be Wolves
I wrote this poem on May 30, 1997, just 23 days after becoming involved with Frank. In many ways it was a self-fulfilling prophecy. I think it is the greatest poem I have ever produced. It has been published and copyrighted, you may or may not see yourself in here:
There Will Be Wolves
by Bridget J. Delfine
She looks up to meet his stare - she knows this is no answer to her prayer.
She lays back, gives it up again.
Holds tight, contaminates her heart again.
He knows his way around a woman. He knows some secrets just unfold. He knows that lies belie compassion. He knows his heart has not grown old.
She always chooses the windy road. He always takes the wrong turn. Without a challenge, her imagination explodes. He knows he's driving away. She can laugh, say he's her friend. He knows that truths belie compassion. She spends the night playing pretend. He knows he'll give it one more day.
He knows she's just a daydream. She rides around remembering his touch. He hears the fear inside his mind. She knows he can't care too much. He sometimes hopes she'll disappear. She decides - she chooses. He wants her to unwind. She knows there will be wolves.
She looks at him, she feels his eyes, sees the simile in his desire. He knows he can't stay too long. Life awaits him back at home. She lays back, revels in his arms, let's him in to her rebel heart. He drives away thinking of her scent, and, did she meant the words that she said?
She knows that lies belie compassion. She knows that boredom breeds contempt. Did she waste her night tonight: Or was it time well spent? She wonders if she's seeping in, she shouldn't see anymore of him. Confusion and collusion, the mist falls over her judgment.
She decides - she chooses - she has to play, she never loses. she knows the rules and she laughs them off - she knows there will be wolves. They're running down that darker path, laughing in the face of the aftermath. They decide - they choose - they know there will be wolves.
He knows that desire's it's own emotion. He knows his way around a woman. He smiles his best disguise, ladens his lies with compassion. He decides - he chooses - he has to play, he never loses. He knows the rules and he laughs them off - he knows there will be wolves.
She lays back, gives it up again. He smiles, he's her best friend. She smiles, gives it up again. She contaminates her rebel heart again. They know desire's it's own emotion. They run down the darker path. The wolves are running beside them, they see the wolves and laugh.
They love to run with the wolves. They love breaking the rules. They know that lies belie compassion, they love sharing their truths. They're racing down that darker path, laughing in the face of the aftermath. They run faster, because they know there will be wolves. They know - there will be wolves.
Copyright © 1997 Bridget J. Delfine
No Part of This Poem May be Reproduced without the Express Written Permission of the Author
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