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falling but not going anywhere
still rooted in the harshly cold,
cruel, uncaring ground,
rockhard underneath me.
falling drowning but there's enough oxygen
to support a pack of werewolves
slavering to get at my
tender throat.
waves undulating against my mind,
slowly, anguishly slowly
wearing away the brick wall encasing my intelligence.
I don't want to do this!
the room around me melts and spins,
receding and bursting into a kaleidoscope
of worrying, eyebright colors,
too much! too saturated!
obligingly, they disappear
to reveal the jewel-spangled
sky, in which my cruel destiny
is written in the stars
bright as searing candle-flame.
damn that cool antiques shop!
damn that perfect pendant!
chain metal and precious stones encircling
my tender throat
squirming and re-forming
to create a cold, hard collar
mostly hidden in thickening fur
just as my skeleton
morphs and painfully readjusts.
raging, intense screams turn to screeches
splitting my now too-sensitive ears
flattening against my striped head.
green-gold reflective eyes, devoid
of any revealing emotion
gaze seductively, pensively,
into the oil-painted puddle
slopping on the edge of the rough asphalt road
growing steadily with every hammering raindrop
seeing water-streaked, darkened fur bristling
ears perk, tail drops, hackles rise
a long, lonely cat-call rises into the forgotten night.
the moon, cool, calm, serene
steady luminescense
while dainty, lacy puffules scudd across her face
gazes down upon a drenched
creature of the night,
hissing and spitting at fate.
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