They tear you apart, these children, because they can
Because the knife blade feels so right in their hand
smooth, a pretty thing, and reassuring
Because the impact of fists and feet on flesh
create a little storm in them
dopamine and white heat

Because they like to meld
and become one organism
all the power of wolves, and none of their dignity

Because their dark-red life force has run dry
and yours will do
it burns out in a second
and then they want more

Because their nerves are dead and they must steal yours

At night they swarm, and grow their cancerous wings
They form their poison-dust clusters on the streets
open their red feeding/vocal parts
sing
their new world dirge, threatening rape and murder

and it is forbidden to hurt them
even with your words