The lucifuge

The last fawn in the forest,

The last gazelle in the savannah,

The last krill of Antarctica,

stalked by feline fangs,

ursine claws,

and asp collars.

You chose me,

the lucifuge bat,

meditator of the sunsets,

dreamer of the days,

drinking sangria,

on holidays.

My molars caress your neck,

enjoying thirty days at my side,

and that is worth more than a single night.

Spring 2010, tuesday 23th.