He stands immobile.

Alert and predatory
in chiselled beauty
ready for the kill.

Merely mahogany?
No more, no less, you say.
And yet he questions me
With dark button eyes.

Tactile and sensuous and smooth
And in his savage way soothes
Bad feelings within me.

So that I am he.
And we’re together.
Me and the Otter.

Friday, 25 August 2006