The most erotic of God’s animals:
with her full body and thin legs that buckle,
tremble and buckle as they twist in unnatural angles as she
crashes to the ground,
taken down by a predator, gunshot or jaw,
overpowered and pressed to the dirt.
Her silken fur coat rippling smoothly over timid muscles that leap and bound
when called to movement,
the heavy dark eyes, deceptively passive,
the seduction subtle yet heavy in their unperturbed mildness.
Thin ears and slender neck, to clasp and clasp tightly,
not in true violence, but the violence that follows
the masterful taking of an inherent invitation,
to feel the warm flesh and the pulsing of her lifeblood,
the madness stirred by her simple surrender.
And when, as she grazes,
the low sunlight turns her thinnest skin a golden orange
and the fine white hairs of her legs blaze with a soft opalescence,
the desire turns to worship, a pleasurable homage,
as you bury your hands and head in the decadent softness
and the gentle sounds of her honest breaths.
There’s little need to speak of the seduction of her underbelly,
the smooth white fur that hardly covers the most vulnerable body,
proof of trust in the life cycle, of fate, or the acceptance of eventual end.
She moves quietly through the cold morning brush,
then gently and furtively through the night,
moving from patch of grass to deeper woods,
from musky nooks to open twilight,
until she emerges, careless, from a highway turn,
and causes your motorcycle to skid and send bright sparks into the dark,
as you roll and tumble, your legs splaying out in unnatural angles,
taken down by prey-turned-predator, who, possessing no malice, only fear,
calls her slender body into frantic movement and jumps away.
And it is here that you are now, with me,
and though the doe and I share the common quivering need
to jump away from a most unfamiliar sound,
this doe trembles with her twisted predator desire to be your prey,
and though I crash and tumble, my full body and legs that buckle,
this doe knows how to raise her lips to a smile.
KJ Lee was born the wrong sex, went to the wrong schools, and let all the wrong parts of all the wrong people touch her in all the wrong places. She’s working the wrong job and looks toward a future that just looks wrong. She searches only for people who speak her language, and not for a second will she be distracted from the wonder. Her talents include knowing exactly when it is she should sound her resounding “yes” to the universe.