Jaguar

The smoke is curling around my 

piano fingers, 

around my pixie featured face

underneath my deep eggplant lips

settling with a sour taste 

over my tongue, somewhere behind my teeth,

that's where the words are,

watching me,

lingering with a knowing gaze,

they understand in some way,

they are a psychic behind a crystal ball,

they are the nonexistence before the Big Bang. 

I feel them

like a dream I had a year ago,

a subtle deja Vu,

a deep sigh building pressure

beneath my diaphragm.

I am running to catch them,

but they are always too fast.

I am chasing a jaguar,

it should scare me

as it circles around me 

it's neon green eyes shoving pitchforks

into my lungs,

it's body a boulder,

all muscles and striations,

darker than a shadow,

more ominous than an eclipse,

yet I am ready 

for it to pounce.