Lassa, the prodigal ram

I've been eaten by sows, one boar.

I've scratched their thighs too often.

I've knocked the trees and loosened the bark.

I've turned on you, haven't I.

I've laid down in circles of straw.

I've constructed the circles myself.

I've arced them with my hooves.

I've tasted bread, which differs from grass.

I've sweated smells more so than most.

I've allowed you to touch my painful forehead.

I've turned on you for doing so, haven't I.

You've sold the sows, one boar.

You shook when they found me.

You've pruned those trees with saws.

You've turned from me, haven't you.

You've thought to lay in circles of straw.

Like a mouse, like me, nest.

You've felt your fingernails with the pad of your thumb.

You've tasted grass, but prefer bread.

You've gotten my scent for days in your nose, your hands.

You've satisfied the painful desire to touch between my eyes.

You've turned away from me, haven't you.

Let's return.

Let's try this again:

I will fully my name, and ram.

You fully yours, keep being.