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?