I caught him as a deer
On the road.
It hurt
But not as much as it hurt him.
Paused on the shoulder
I yelled through my machine
(is that how you deal with sick animals?)
And coaxed him into shotgun.

We slid through wet grass
(no more pavement for us,
Sleek (and traumatic)
as volcanic glass)

My sick pun
(he didn’t catch it)
Was sanctuary.
And we parked
(bumper to building)
As close to it as we could.

I turned off my machine
And vision rolled down with tears
But all he could let go of
Was dribbled sick
(put me to sleep) and
Converse smiles
(euthanize me).

Doubt-tongued, I licked his wounds
And in that second
My primal instinct screamed
(I clawed for life).
I had kissed a sick animal.
My primal instinct screamed.
I clawed for life.