Joy in Being Pursued
there’s joy in being pursued.
the prey doesn’t have to convince the predator
that she is food.
i’m a fine plate
so all who are hungry
better get their minds and their lives straight
before they think about dining on me.
besides, i have too many calories
for those on intelligence diets,
am way too rich for ulcer-ridden men
to stomach me
and too damn sweet
for weak ones with cavities.
i stalk the earth,
or rather walk it simply
and my natural scent attracts
the brave ones to me.
but they can’t get too close too fast
or make too much noise,
for i’ll run off before they even muster up the voice
to express interest.
or if i stay, chances are
i’ll lose interest.
i am flighty to say the least
in this forest of wild beasts,
loving the attention fully,
but still doing me…
i am beautiful prey parading past predator’s territory
without getting painfully pounced upon
until that wild, brave one
who is strong and smart enough
finds his target in just enough
time to conquer me.
he will enjoy this dish mightily.