I was intrigued by your eyes,
how they smoldered in the darkness.
A mutation, perhaps?
I understood why you lived alone
in the woods all those years ago.
Society can be cruel
to strange-looking people.
Living with a predator hasn’t been easy.
You slept all day while I worked
and I slept all night while you hunted.
Still, my job kept us fed in those famine years.
And love kept us together.
Forty years is a long time for a predator to live,
I suppose. I might still live another forty more,
though I don’t know how I’ll survive it without you.
I will miss you terribly.
I’ve pureed your raw venison, my love.
And here is your medication.
I’ll be back from work in time for your supper.