There is a striding slowness to her speed
energy tight contrained in every limb.
Beside her brightness even light is dim.
She comes to kill us, mostly though to feed
her teeth are engineered to bring fierce death
then carve us meat that sizzles with our blood
if she could bite a skull in two she would
to eat our brain. If she could eat the breath
out of our lungs, she’d relish the warm air.
Each run each leap is appetite unbound.
But it’s not us, an antelope she’s found.
Its throat blood glistens second in her hair.
She stretches yawns. Gods stroke her like a toy,
Who if she could, she’d pull down, eat, destroy.