Silently, he stalks his prey,

In the wild, during the day.

He likes to be seen, to be feared

To be the only face with a sneer.

If you hadn’t guessed, the prey is me.

I am his doe-eyed fantasy-

The one he would readily devour,

Be the thorn to a delicate flower.

He looks me in the eye, and hugs me

I sense the wrong, but it doesn’t bug me.

I take in the orange on black

His claws buried in my back

He takes a whiff, I know it’s time

The fangs hit me with some slime.

And with some naivety I chuckle

Reality hits me, as I buckle,

Under him, under his weight

I know it’s too late.

I should have recognised this felony sooner

For, since when have tigers befriended a human?