safety.

i lace my fingers with yours
and breathe deeply for the first time,
at the same time learning
i’d been gasping my whole life.

a lifetime spent watched
through the scope of a rifle. 
i find mercy in your sights, 
soft eyes where i expect a barrel. 

i thought myself rabid prey,
a hare amongst bunnies, or 
a fawn with sharp teeth. 
take me out of my misery. 

then i find an open hand
where i expect a braced trigger. 
i lean into your palm, dumbfounded
by an impact that didn’t leave bruises. 

to feel my lack of innocence
not diminish my sense of purity. 
to know my jagged claws
aren’t enough to scare you off. 

the wise hunter in my meadow,
you are my salvation.
i will mirror your grace with devotion.
please, do the honor of letting me serve you.