The house at night. Early morning.
The wind wolfs outside and prowling
glares at the double glazing.
Eyes awake and jittery.
My internal clock
doesn’t know whether it’s
coming or going.
I was not sure why it moves
or rather
what moves it but i’m
beginning to get an idea.
I miss the sound of you laughing
but I’m strangely confident.
Trick me to sleep
with your sing song voice and
cloudy eyes. Flesh to
flesh.
And the wolf at my throat.
Agitation of hands. Strength of words. 
“glares at the double glazing.
great visual and poem
🙂
dangerous.
how’s the wolf tamer?
Not bad.
Nearly on holidays,
which will be nice.
lovely. i love the image of the wolf.
you have a special way with words
Thank you.
Your poems have a particularly beautiful style, rhythm and timbre.
Thank you again.