Looking through my posts, I was wondering why I had so many unpublished drafts, but then I remembered the exclusivity I wanted to keep at the time. I often type out first drafts on here before writing them out, in ink, into my journal, which is a bit of a backwards process but that's just how I like doing it.

I'll try to publish a few of my favorite drafts every so often. Here are two poems I wrote for Amelia for the Summer Secret Santa exchange. She likes werewolves.

---

I guess I should have known

the disheveled clothes, the

wild hair, the taste for meat,

I thought they were just more

reasons to love you

but it's all so obvious now

and I guess it's too late

since that night you bit me

"we're all prone to kinkiness"

I thought in my sleep

but looking on the bright side

at least we get to spend more

moon-swept nights together,

running through the countryside

scaring sheep, chasing cattle,

just the way lovers should

---

we ran all night

our palms pressed into

the half-dirt

half-mud concoction

sprinklers turned on

along the wet cement

trees twisted together

and apart in the wind like

ropes held together by a

force of will

and a hanging bell

late night joggers

saw us as shadows flashing

out of the corners of their eyes

and dismissed us just as quickly

hearts continuing to respire

I smelled tree roots

digging into the worm's home

the father silenced

by the extra bedfellow

corpses spooning dirt

and moonlight climbing out

from between opened

fingers

stars tumbled

sounds of mothers praying

and wooden feet

stamping on weeds as

blood issued from

sheep's clothes that went

"moo"

we laughed about it

in the morning

our cheeks smeared with

dried red

wearing things that

weren't clothes

one last kiss

it's all we could do

to ignore the dread

of bottle-driven parents

and the thirty days before

our next night out