To Sleep Naked With the Wolves

Those hazel eyes that pull back with the tide And come alive when submerged She had a witch’s way about her So spellbinding and lost with her jeans of the week dingy and dilapidated that spoke of wild nights being desired, and left desiring They fit so well with Her cross to bear her beautiful brown hair And the uninvited eyes it’d bring Lonesome was all she ever wanted On a sandy bluff somewhere Leaning into the wind In the arms of love’s memory It’s so much clearer when it’s gone To sing when no one’s listening To sleep naked with the wolves These are the things she needs