I feel you watching me, even in the night-black room where I teeter on the choice of keeping myself awake or yielding to the nightmare that pleads for the chance to resume the moment I fall asleep. There for me, protecting me, or so you say, belied by the anger rooted deep in your heart, your mind, burning in those oh so fixed and hungry eyes.    

your eyes like a wolf’s
survey me from the wood’s edge
I wait for your pounce