I could diagnose your teeth as snowshoes.
I’ve never seen a blizzard bleed before,
but it’s thumped against my own skull
and forged tetanus
from cranial musk.
Spotted white, I know your throat is infected.
I’d call it water on the brain, but it’s simply
the Spring melt. The amygdala’s expansion,
Darwin’s way of summoning those hounds
through anything holy.
Mammalia is chronic.
The treatment is to speak
as lightly as the shedding.