Blue-eyed boy
with the scarred mouth
keeps his hair like fire pulled
into the braids of his home—
the braids of his enemies.
Venom-burned shoulders
tell of the years
spent letting them control,
betray, blame him
until he broke
and made himself
These days, he roams
the forest,
king of the ravens
and friend of the wolves.
I’ve never seen him there
beneath the trees,
but some nights,
full moon outside
my bedroom window,
I hear gentle laughter
on the breeze and know—
he is free.