Tsai-l Fang + Corinne Adams

Sweet Desires and Soft Thoughts

He sits, snug and warm
in a brown winter coat
in the denser branches of
his tree.

He thinks—
“When I cry out to them
they think they hear their
death—
they hear a dumb bark,
or an ominous whinny.”

The stiff limbs of his home
creak and moan, haunted with
the weight of unheard desires.

He fluffs and ruffles,
settles brown and white
stripes, and turns his head
towards the winter—

turns his night-yellow eyes
towards the winter.

Soft hooting—
“Are you not the
brothers of dragons?”

He stirs;
“Won’t you be a companion
to me?”

But the night air nibbles
(silently, sharply)
as if to say
“Did you expect love?”