Two fleshy layers,
upon a stark white
canvas. Warm as a bath
after a long day
in the garden, pruning
away the prickly, stubborn
plants of the past. Warm,
the double shot
of whiskey on a Friday
night. Closing in,
a lion fixated upon his prey.
The hot breath, a stifling
summer Alabama breeze.
There is no escape.
The heart makes its beat
known, a steady drum
backing a larger song.
Two fleshy layers,
upon a stark white
canvas. A wolverine, closing,
finally, around his
helpless prey.
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