January 20, 2016 § Leave a comment

A Word Portrait.

This is a creature of the threshold and the ways between, shadow-walker with a shapeshifter’s eyes. This is something synanthropic, the wild come to dwell and thrive amidst civilization, yet lairing in the cracks and edges of things, crepuscular, watching and waiting, observing with a night-bright gaze. This is kin to coyote and jackal, buzzard and crow, fox and coon.

A moonlight passion thrums in the bones, but the passion is a quiet hidden thing, like the wild cracking through the edges of the city concrete, the startling sight of eyes in the alley glowing from a car’s headlights, the sleek shadow of a lean canid silhouette in an abandoned lot. The wisdom found in 4am stillness when the whole world seems at rest and the sky is infinite above. The kind of beauty you have to search for in back alleyways and abandoned buildings and overgrown cemeteries, the kind you can find nowhere else.

Theirs is not that of predator nor prey, not the hungry teeth of the stalking jaguar nor the rapid pitterpat heartbeat of the rabbit. This is a quiet confidence in movement and speech, a laughing wariness, a weighing look that seeks to stare through the skin of the world.


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