Snow White's Cujo

"Get out," you say.
You smother me with your cold green eyes
and point to the door and my suitcase.

"Leave now."  Your voice bites.
It crouches behind your tongue
and leaps out in a wave of shouting.

Your lipstick is bright red,
the color of Snow White's apple.
For a moment, you remind me of Cujo.

You snarl.
Your wet fur rises on end.
You crouch to attack.

You inch forward.
The blood drips off your fur
and onto the kitchen floor.

"I'm leaving."
It's not as if I care to stay here.
I never liked animals much anyways.


 © 2015   Abby Danfora