First we behaved. Then we explained. We
Ate each other's thighs and hearts in pots
For a compulsion we couldn't resist or know.
Instantaneously we confabulated reasons
Having to do with beliefs about starvation.
We were soaked in blood and emotions.
We reeked of grease and marrow. Nothing
To do and we did it. After dinner, we told
Stories. All adventures settle into stasis,
But the stasis, like ice, like continents, drifts.
Night on the ice threw long shadows,
And sometimes we longed for a shadowless
Cavern, where the menace when imagined
Could only be formless. Here it took shape
As every kind of ghost and dragon, faces
Of what we had consumed, of what came
To consume us. We knew that we were both,
Had never existed except as both, that we,
We in our stories in bodies of stories, were
That monster of supernatural strength made
From the charnel somehow charmed
To endlessly anguished, human tales of life,
Driven to the last resource in deserts or ice.
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