they’d tell me
how much a fox’s honour is worth
without weighing it so why not
steal a boy’s honour
braid it in as
another triumph
bask in this
demonic glory

my mother
muzzle crimsoned in rooster
her grin always saying
you never know
this might be The One
who’ll make a scarf out of you
the copper air lingers
everywhere I go

                               yet how do I still
                                      want a boy who kisses me like
                                              he’s surprised
                                                   feeds me slices of moon
                                                    irons decades into seconds
                                                     sews promises in my skin
                                                               this golden hunger
                                                   taunt as an arched back
                                             I learn to keep
                                        on a tight leash

and instead seek
the desire in their gaze
a compromise
while I taste their heart
and tip my head and
howl to the moon

the fox faerie hunts your soul tonight.

© 2023 Wen Yu Yang