has teeth, it does
clawing through tissue
like my own little dragon
rending medulla, pons.
grey spurts of horn curl
temple to spine
inside the cavern of my skull.
impact of meeting releases
dull chitinous scraping
a conversation with my blood
dries the thoughts and pins them
like transparent wings under glass
of a mounting board. No drug
will release them, my little children
so young to be eaten alive
drip, fangs, and smile.