Spring 2012: "wolves."

the hollow space between your ribs bloats full to bursting,
unravels and you feel leadened but lightheaded,
altered physically, chemically,
and through it all your mouth’s been open wide,
face twisted into what might be agony but isn’t, yelling in frenzied unison with what feels like 20,000 people,
drowned in such a harmony that you wonder if you’re creating sound
or just swimming in it.

it shakes you every time.