But I got stuck between your teeth.

Here is what I hunted

when I thought I was hunting love:

melting into your skin

being eaten

feeling safe and dry in your bones

wearing your face

doing what I was told

to keep the peace

saying thank you

even when it ached

especially then

being desired and needed and wanted

and CARRIED

above the sea in talons

that wished me well.

In hunting for love

I only ever hunted the freedom

from all the awful possibilities,

from the unbearable

crushing

freedom

of being me.