She lives on the dangerous side
of the clearing
in the yellow-eyed shadow of a darker fear.
We have seen each other
inside mortal dusk,
and what passed between us
was the road
ghosts travel
when they cannot rest
in the land of the terrible other.
Red spirits of hunters
walked between us
from the place where blood
goes back to its wound
before fire
before weapons.
Nothing was hidden
in our eyes.
I was the wild thing
she had learned to fear.
Her power lived
in a dream of my leaving.
It was the same way
I have looked so many times at others
in clear light
before lowering my eyes
and turning away
from what lives inside those
who have found
inside a single vision.