The Pangolin

by

Coiled tightly.

Nose tucked into a crook in the right thigh.

The world within is humid and cool.

Scales protrude into the world without–knife edges raised; ready to wound, splinter, and infect.

The attack of the lion or leopard reaches the inner world only as muted scrapes and thuds.

Muscles and claws yield to an armored fatalism programmed over eons.

Cool, quiet, and patience reign within.

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