remember the wolf
photos by Jolinna Li, words by Vaidehi Bhardwaj
red wolf called love
remember when you were still ginger? tomato hair, baby-skin pale, translucent like kelp. there was no ocean for three hundred miles—only a river, bracketed by emerald trees and collapsing power lines, the sun dimming cold at high noon. ripples lapping at our baby-feet, our baby-fingers. opposite clouds in the distance, the sky hazy—a cowgirl in a castle, everything mythical, dreamlike. do you remember thinking you were not quite real that day? early in the morning, after chasing down the pre-dawn fireflies, you pulled together a heap of sand, called it a treasure chest, called it fleeting.
remember, we traipsed through the woods? the dusk still hours ahead, wispy threads of light binding us to the forest floor. we were young. god, we were young, and the forest was deep— so deep. we carved our initials into a birch tree and called it permanence. you laid your head on my shoulder and called it quits.
do you remember that wolf in the distance? pelt as red as the strands of your hair, like the beat of your heart. ears twitching like he could hear us thinking, giving chase. head cocked, the snap of a branch—sharp, steady. you pointed to the red wolf and called it love, and in that moment, my baby-heart swelled to bursting. love, following in the prints of our feet to the innsbrook on vale, to the river thick with empty threats. howling at windows every odd night. scraping hollow claws along shore-sand. you looked at the moon, called it gentle, called it sweet, called it home.
do you remember how all things end? they end without beginning, swelling, receding. every page you ever wrote me going blank, stuck to the walls of a home collapsing in on itself. do you remember the red wolf called love? caught in its jaws, its teeth tender? remember digging your hands into its (my) pelt, twisting your arms around its (my) ribcage, smoothing over the wrinkle between its (my) brows?
do you remember our river? our papers, our treasures, our power lines? our red wolf called love?
because i do.
i do.
