Since the day I realized

that I probably like tricksters

because I am one myself

I have truly embraced

my Loki nature.

I know I need

someone to match me,

NOT adore me,

hold my hand,

promise everlasting love.

I want a wolf to wrestle with.

Someone who wants to bite

and get bitten.

Most wolves I meet

are fine with nibbling,

but I must taste like trouble:

over

and over

again

all I’m left with

is fresh tracks in the snow.

My optimistic theory

is that they were sheep in disguise.

Next time I will examine those fangs,

first.