She loves him, because
he cannot be eaten.
Then, she tries.
Half dead, he resists.
His late flinch
entreats her.
Pale little legs,
that pod,
a few hairs,
almost no eyes—
this least is what she craves
yet cannot have.
Keep me,
he asks.
She bounces him
from paw to paw,
slaps,
and sighs.
If he were
still alive,
she
would love him
and
kill him.
For Ethan Leinwand.