Rg Gregory

1928

your tiger

(in china it is symbolic
of darkness and the new moon)

in your night's hollow
the tiger stalks
black grasses have licked
it into nothingness

hooked by moon
i hover on your hollow's lip
i feel the smell of fire
the leap of a bright cat-fur

my eye is dumb
asking to be devoured
i am trembled over
(a bag of fear-bones)

there is a whoosh of flame
streaking but static at
your night's abundance
tall grass is waving

the moon waxes
the face of the tiger
sparkles in its own glow
offers a striped peace

fireflies come my way
messages are calm
i step inwards
stroking the bright pelt
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