At Bay

Poem By Zoe Nyght

It’s more than the moonlight erupting my howl;
there’s a silver bullet tucked away in your shirt.
With clenched jaws and coiled muscles
we corner each other,
our eyes flickering in suspense
like sunlight on steel.
We inch towards snarling combat.
We bluff towards bleeding throats.
We almost make it.

Then with a nudge and a sloppy kiss
I sit back on my haunches
and watch as you play -
silver notes that hang in the air
like tobacco rings after you smoke them.
Poisonous yet addicting
I breathe you in.

In bliss I lie at your feet
and lick your hands as you caress me,
salty apprehension that sticks to summer skin.
Trust me when I say
I’ll keep my teeth to myself.

Comforted only by the midnight clouds
I used to bay.

Now at bay,
I whisper thanks to the clandestine moon.

And at the end of the night,
as the owls begin their slumber,
we slip back into morning
hand in hand,
the silver still safe and snug.

Comments about At Bay

The image of lovemaking (or advancing towards lovemaking) being like combat is extremely interesting. I don't understand the title or its use within the poem.


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