BY ANN BERESFORD
I am curiously stirred
by the landscape
as I wait lazily for
my lover
lazily in the hot sun
no hurry
life goes on
time to admire
my long thin arms
they blend with
the long thin grass
their frailty is deceptive
my lover will not be the first
to know their strength
strange to consider
how small he always is
true, he moves gracefully
but never quick enough
when he is joined to me
too absorbed to notice
my knife-like grip
I will eat him inch by inch
I'll not need another meal for hours
afterwards I will sit quietly
under the exotic leaves
raising my arms again
as if praying.
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