It is in the room,
Late and constricting.
It crouches, a tigress
Stripes the color of a carpet pad.
It is a slow, stealthy thing
Sharp enough to strike.
It's audible our sounds.
It follows her, thick
As a black shadow
It's tail twitches, with a
Maddening snakish shake.
It hisses words at her,
Words of hate and shame.
It sings a sweet song
Then tears at her again.

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