by Marissa Bell Toffoli.
Recurring nightmare:
neck entangled in tree
when lions show up hungry.
Upon waking? So far, nothing.
Eat a twig, wiggle my ears,
keep moving. Always go, go.
Like a gazelle’s dancing body grows longer
every muscle stretches, holds,
reaches. Stillness, the illusion.
My legs propel me
across these plains faster
than you’d expect.
See these spots? My beloved
nuzzles here. He walks ahead
and I follow him to water.
Front legs spread wide we angle
down to ground synchronously,
awkwardly, pull our bodies back
to extend our necks into the mirror pond.
I listen to the gathering herd. I think about
other spotted creatures, mostly predators.
I tried to sell my spots once. No luck.
Went straight toward the men
with their guns. They stared up at me.
No one took a shot so I kept moving.
Head held high, hiding behind
leafy tree limbs, heavy with rejection.
I put miles between me and them.