Prey

I once was coy, but you stole that away
told me to be coy with all except you -


that is something that is spinning itself true;
I've never yielded for any before you they all


swam in oceans of my coyness, unable to ever
extricate themselves from my web of cleverness,


but you broke my webs and reminded me I
was no spider; you ruffled my feathers in the


hopes that I'd raise your fur - I've never been
accustomed to laying bare my heart beating in


a drum; I've always had an escape plan from
other predators, I never willingly laid as prey


before them yet I allowed you to pin me beneath
your paws; your impish grin and the flash of


your teeth told me just how wolfish you were,
and I ought not have anticipated anything less


of a wolf; I cannot help but worry if you'll
stain the sheets scarlet with my life's blood.

--Linda Crate