Element

“Kneel in the path of the runaway train.”
The note is written on a lace napkin
Beneath an empty glass.
The walls are red glitter,
Table of popsicle sticks
Spray painted gold.
The hammock entangling me
Is made of tie-dyed wedding gowns
Sewn together with the whiskers of wolves.

Out of my element, perhaps.
But do not tell me the glass is half full.
I know what empty is.
It is your construction.
Your biology.
Your destiny.

Do not blink when the wolf rises.
You have always been
In his eyes
Laughing about how blood tastes
Like old copper pennies in your mouth.