your howl crosses Pontchartrain

You're so full,
moon too big for the sky.
You make the mischief in my chest
itch wildly
and crawl  
writhing
from the corner of my mouth.
 
Which city I'm in
decides whether I'll even bother
to try and hold it down.
 
Love is just about
all I am,
but the stuff I got for you
is just crazy.
You rile my skin
in the most insane way -
 
your nighttime
is a thrilling home,
a murder-in-the-dark hallway.
I want to hide in it
with my heart hammering,
tummy tangled,  
always -
 
waiting for you to come
terrify me - sink
those nails back in,
those teeth.
 
You moon,
you wolfcry,
you light in my late-night mind;
I burn a hole through my ceiling
with my hot, tired eyes - embers in
the marks you leave -
 
weary and awake as I can possibly be,
you make it a privilege  
not to fall asleep.