He died a transanimal, he wasn’t man and he wasn’t animal. He wasn’t a wolf as my mother is a wolf, how I am a half-wolf. He was a howl from my mother’s mouth, she mated with him & gave birth to me. There was my mother before him & there is my mother after him, & all the howls since him that have died after leaving her mouth. Sometimes when I hear my mother howl I fold up inside myself & wait, I wait for a possible father I know will never come. Sometimes I sit & think about all my unborn brothers & sisters, how we might all fit in a house or a hole in the ground, I sit & think how a howl isn’t a hole, how a howl isn’t whole. I think sometimes how I want to dig a hole & stay there, how I want to bury us all together. Maybe we can keep each other warm there. Maybe there we can make each other into something new.