This morning 
I was bit by a lion. 
It came up to me 
on the street 
and requested that I 
offer my head 
to its massive mouth. 
I did 
(as I often do), 
trusting such moments 
will inspire, purify or bless: 
those dreamy illogicals. 

Then the lion bit me 
just above my brow. 

In the moment 
when its teeth were bared 
and its breath had yet 
filled with my blood, 
I looked into its throat 
and saw a young woman 
standing there, smiling 
(as they do) 
with enough hope to promise 
an easing of some 
of my pain. 

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Cover image by Brendan Howells