By Isabella Melians:
(zoom in on bat)
his breaths echo through the mask
"magic time,"
he says
a war-cry,
he charges loudly,
bag held brashly in his hand
anxious fluttering,
a chittering beast,
searching for escape
she screams
as the bag engulfs her head,
writhing beast within
"my hair!'
she cries
he grunts in response:
"hold still, woman"
another scream
and she is free
a look of disgust paints her face
it sits in plastic,
trapped, confined
wings long for open air
he glances back,
stern look in eye
"You're welcome."