She wolf

A she wolf craves a human den.
In the hearts of subterranean men
With flesh and blood and open jaw
Her wolf-print paw marks. Static, claw…
A rib wet womb of distemper.
In circles of death made crueller…
Her fur cribs an unwanted soul.
Her teats vortex a new hellhole!
In her loins dance a devils fold.
A mortal breath; inhaling the cold,
The external infant cub, nuzzling…
For her warmth, only feels the empty, gnashing.
For her warmth, only feels more bereft!
And unclothed, betwixt her weft!
Can only feel more primordial, scurry, free…
The lambs of this family, damnations, tree.