He is monogamous, but always stands quill-
length from his mate. Only the pads of his foot
are naked, his tongue, the nervous sentinel
of his eye. When she cries, he whirrs
his bristles like rainfall on the dust-
packed savanna. She forgets
their distance. She burrows while he collects
the bone-wrought scaffolding of lesser
plantigrades, builds a shrine
to what is hard.
Krista Cox is a paralegal and parent in northern Indiana. Her poetry has appeared in Stirring, cahoodaloodaling, Rogue Agent, and Menacing Hedge. She was the recipient of the 2016 Lester M. Wolfson Student Award in Poetry. Her OKCupid profile is a work of creative literary genius. Find her at kristacox.me.