Stalked

She stalked me around the library like a skittish cat,

Twitchy, wary, full of hiss and spit.

Sitting fat, all tucked-up in her chair, 

ears pricked, her eyes cool slits of suspicion        

Watching, waiting, perched.

She’d slink behind me in the stacks

soft-pawed, stealthy, silent.

I’d imagine her fishy breath on my neck

when I stooped to shelve a book, or sat to read a review

My every movement consumed her, 

teased her like a flicker of laser on the wall,

a slippery shadow that looms and fades.

Irresistible prey.

She finally gathered herself up one day,

squared her old-lady haunches,

arched her bony back, 

and pounced.

But I was vapor in her claws, She may embody cat, but I am nothing like a mouse.