In time-lapse, I will
watch you again at sunset,
when tiny drops of evening rain
fall on molten lava of angry earth.

The desert will suffer
in cool moonlight, without shade.

You set free the tiger, into
wild. He will not come
back to smell the cage.

The affairs, bloom or die
between man and beast. But
new born anxiety lives.

You are coming of age, in
between cacti with their exotic blooms
and piercing thorns.

The cobweb is spreading,
complicated, three dimensional.
The large, hairy tarantula waits.