Ari

“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.