Wolf Out! Run with the Wolves.

Come with me, if you dare! Let’s run—

Not as ourselves, in human form~~~

but as silhouettes with fangs honed in moonlight.

HOWL WITH ME.....

🐺🐺🐺Awoooooooo!!!

Let’s wolf out in the dark where the pines lean close,

where the night is a drum and our hearts know the rhythm.

I hear the howl of the wolf

🐺🐺🐺Awoooooooo!!!

in the spaces between the sky and the land

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It fills the divine negative spaces

🐺🐺🐺

Those spaces where only the wise old owl and steadfast trees

bear witness to the beauty of the vast, blue hued mysteries of the firmament

🐺🐺🐺

The wolf speaks to me...she delights in

and celebrates the freedom of the wild

My heart yearns to join her...to run - to romp...to dance

to fill my days gamboling, cavorting and capering by her side

🐺

🐺

Out there, where luculent spaces negate the need for noise...

--and the fury of living.

Out there where the wind, the sky, the moon and the stars

keep time with their own beat of the drum

🐺

🐺🐺🐺🐺Awoooooooo!!! Awoooooooo!!!

It's a temptation for your wild side

In the stillness before dawn,
when the world lies a'slumber...
You feel the fur rise beneath your skin—
a silver shiver, a promise, a calling.

You step into the negative space
between breath and howl,
and the forest answers.

🐺🐺🐺

Run with me...it whispers
Through the ink‑black corridors of the trees,
where shadows sharpen into companions
and the wind tastes like freedom.

🐺🐺🐺

Run until the old burdens fall behind,
until the souls remember their ancient music,
until the moon crowns us
with its ineffable and perfect blessing.

🐺🐺🐺🐺Awoooooooo!!!

🐺🐺🐺

Tonight we are not small.

Tonight we are not tame.

🐺🐺🐺

Tonight we are wolves !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

and the world trembles at the sound of our joy.

🐺🐺🐺

🐺🐺🐺🐺Awoooooooo!!!

Run With the Wolf's Dark Rose‑Red Wine

As the moon lowers itself like a sharpened blade,
and the forest parts for us ~
our shadows panting with hunger,
hearts beating in a rhythm older than lineage.

You feel the wolf rise,
neither gentle, nor patient ~
a creature born of midnight.
Its breath frost. Its pulse bestial.

Euphoria blooms along your spine,
black‑petaled, thorn‑crowned.
Each thorn drips a bead of wine ~
deep red, almost ritualistic,
as if the night itself has decided to bleed for us.

🐺🐺🐺

We run.
Through corridors of trees that bend to eavesdrop,
through pools of moonlight that taste like silver,
through shadows that whisper our intent
as if they’ve been waiting centuries.

🐺🐺🐺

The wine follows us ~~
a trail of crimson droplets glowing on the forest floor,
marking our passage like a ritual,
a spell, a promise we never said aloud.

🐺🐺🐺

🐺🐺🐺
And when we stop,
the world stops with us.
The roses unfurl, releasing a scent
that feels like desire sharpened into a weapon.
The wolf inside you lifts its head,
howls once ~ into the void...

Awoooooooo!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

a sound that echoes...cracking the sky open.

🐺🐺🐺

You stand beside me,
eyes reflecting a stranger moon,
fur shimmering with rose‑gold embers,
a creature of legend and midnight.

🐺🐺🐺

Tonight we are not running from specifics.
Tonight we are running toward the truth of ourselves ~
wild, crowned, untamed.

🐺🐺🐺

Tonight we drink the rose‑wine of the dark
and let it stain our teeth
as we smile at the trembling world.