A frequent nudge
	animal presence behind my eyes
I canít tell what kind it is
	but its paws are soft, sheathed
		its fur rough, breath hot
			and sweetly reeking of appetite.
The animalís limbs make
	my legs shift and stretch 
		with the sinuous grace I lack
Its repose, sun warmed
	loosens something in me
		I wasnít aware I was holding, 
Its movement leaps in my throat.

Large, this creature
	thick-bodied and heavy-lidded
		ponderous in speech
			with its mouth
				not made for words
Yet it fits
	within me
		pushes my edges outward.

© Frances Boyle