{"sf1_id":1353431,"sf2_id":"3egGXKPe","title":"We Used to be Wild","author":"Mister Moira","words":107,"posted_at":"2018-07-23T00:03:00.000Z","tags":["Friendship","Love","Poetry","wild"],"url":"https://fse.anthro.fr/stories/1353431-we-used-to-be-wild","original_url":"https://sofurry.com/s/3egGXKPe","image_url":"https://cdn.sofurryfiles.com/submissions/thumbnails/97/e2/97e28f24-5383-452b-8b8a-10754060e6f4","description":"#3 of Poetry\n\nA poem inspired by my best friend and our complex relationship with each other and with the world.","content":"We Used to be Wild\n\n  \nI was swallowed whole  \nby your howl. A spectre,  \nthe sun rose. I remember  \nthe tremor, midnight  \nfeathers aquiver  \nwhen you found me.  \nYawning maw filled  \nwith wind and the sheen  \nof your fangs. You scented  \npast my silence, my hollow  \nbones. The trees were old  \nfriends. We dove into dew.  \nFlesh blooms.  \nFlank heaving. Breath  \nshatters. Warmth, startled,  \nflees. Feathers and falling ash.  \nThey caged me just to save me.  \nI pace in front of my window,  \ndaylight dies between the bars.  \nInto darkness, cover cast over.  \nI set my watch on  \nthe nightstand with  \nmy first feather, your final fang.  \n\n  \n  \n\n","series":{"name":"Poetry","previous":"https://fse.anthro.fr/stories/1353428-queen-calla.json","next":"https://fse.anthro.fr/stories/1353690-the-isle-of-echoes.json"}}