“Ahh, that Hunter stalking my shadow… Who does he think he is, to temp me so?
Ran away he did, into the gloom of pre-dawn light. In a beat up astro van no less. Thought I had seen the last of that frisky feline, that twisted, adorable freak of nature. Now he growls into my ear on my cell phone. Haunts my mail box with his pen.
Ahh, what can one woman do in the face of such a conundrum? How do I stand my ground amidst this assault of dripping wet prose and doodles in the margins? How can this Wild Wench sit and sigh to herself in the silence of the river, with a tiger haunting the notebook pages?
My journal says so many nice things about him, the Muse is smitten and purring, and all my walls repeat his words like an echo from several months ago. Madness is creeping in on my little oasis, and I cannot tell if it’s a good thing or not.
Fit so well inside me, like a piece of a puzzle into my empty space. See so clearly past my flesh, my bones, past all the living parts of me ’till I am bare naked beneath that gaze… Sigh.
Well let me tell you one thing Archer. I too am a tiger, I too hunt the darkness with a pen, and all that ink glistens wetly in the moonlight. I too have walked on the wild side and ridden dragons into the sky. I have flown to the sun and been burned in those rays, like Icarus I descended to earth stymied and broken… But I can write such pretty things about it.
Be careful, I am not a toy and I am not easy to digest. I just may give you some horrid indigestion should you attempt to devour such a feast.
These bones you have left behind still taste of meat, and I gnaw them like the beast I am. Reveling in your scent, I roll like a cat staking her claim… Careful now, be very careful… If you say the right thing, I just may believe you, then you will REALLY be in trouble.”