A sandpaper tongue

The darkness sit on the horizon like a hungry cat,
green-eyed and menacing,
a flock of birds for whiskers and clouds for a tail.

A plane flies overhead
and two ears appear,
shortly followed by four paws.

My arm extends and silken skin
rises up to greet my fingertips.
It purrs, billowing steam.

A tongue lashes out,
tiptoeing closer and closer
and even from far away, I am scared.

by Rebecca L. Atherton

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