Lantern & Wolf

I carried a lantern; you came as a shadow,
wearing the woods like a velvet confession.
Your smile, knife, bright, made the moths forget
which fire meant home, which flame meant hunger.
We circled a clearing of unwritten rules:
no names, no past, no mercy for dawn.
Your hands learned my weather and called it good.
My breath learned your winter and called it warm.
When the night lifted, it left us marked—
I with soot, you with light between your teeth.
I should have run. I did not run.
I braided the dark. You wore it like ribbon.
Some stories hunt. Some stories guide.
We chose both, and bled, and were satisfied.