# The Skin Cycle IV: Forest Dark

Author: Aux Chiens
Tags: Lycanthrope, Poetry, WereDog, Werewolf, abstract, poem, psychedelic

The boy
knows how to use his hind legs--
Heart-racing scamper,
That little scamp.
Barely a creature, 
Hardly a human--
Liminal being,
Just as I--
A phantom,
A smile in the fog,
Not seen--
A crying laugh,
Unintelligible
To the ears of the living.
My shadow moves
Sacred, but unremarkable,
Against the rain--
Falling heavy against the dead leaves,
Driving up a leaden mist.
The sun, burnt out--
By exsanguinated, anæmic light,
I can see he and I
Only faintly.

Source: https://sofurry.com/view/835679