She often told me <br />she hurt <br /> just below the surface <br />of her skin <br /> <br />I was so young <br /> <br />I thought that might mean <br /> <br /> she had the fangs of a wolf <br />growing in her hands <br /> <br />I always wondered <br /> when I held her hand <br />late at night <br />while the <br /> <br />winds howled outside <br /> <br />if they were calling her home <br /> <br /> and <br />she would bare those fangs <br />to tear my <br /> <br />heart to shreds<br /><br />Charles Darkly<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-delicate-way-the-cradle-board-swings-in-the-boughs/
