Hunting to be Hunted (A War by Instinct)
by MELISSA COOK
Like nightfall –
he impersonates the sunset upon my lips.
An elixir of evanescent fireflies;
caged by rings of fire.
He is no more than a Nemeses to my heart,
Evocative enough to illuminate
comets upon my path…
…with memories to guide me home.
[a war within ourselves]
Yet I, I’d wait;
for the many times he may vanish within raindrops.
Allowing paper flowers to shine.
Leaving me with no more than a survival kit
-an hourglass to shift time.
[a war of difference]
He like a tiger hunts,
camouflaged by tide.
Unexplainable to the essence of sempiternal,
shifting delicacy upon my mind.
[a war of change]
Like dawn –
he’d re-emerge tainted of violent midnights
and I a rabbit slumbered
oblivious ‘neath his paw.
-a penumbra.
Nursing he;
who was –
hunting to be hunted.
a pawn in our chain of life.
“Love is the only force capable of transforming an enemy into a friend.”
-Martin Luther King, Jr