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“Eloi Eloi lama sabachthani?”

My hands and nose press against this glass. 
Behind it, he prowls. 
Restless, at once. 
At once, ravenous.

I would disappear in his long-toothed caress. 
I would vanish like drops of water on a blade of grass 
In the hot savannah sun. 

They made it perfect for him, inside this glass. 
They made it perfect;
So he would remember the chase. 

Body of fire, sinews of steel—
The hunt begins. 
Hot breath on tanned skin and jaws that sink deep
Into innocent flesh. 

They put a stucco cave over there. 
And over here a few rocks, a gnarled tree or two, and of course —
His pride. 
 
My body melts against this glass. 
One look from his arrogant gaze and I see those who have scaled these walls;
Hurling their bodies like autumn leaves on a crisp day
	— softly falling. 

I would fall too. 
But instead, I fold like origami upon this sterile floor, behind his glass. 
Both of us restless, at once. 
At once, both ravenous.

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