The Elusive Bongo

The Elusive Bongo

I veil myself in a deep mahogany brown coat,
reminiscent of the jacket you wear
hunting for your prey,
but with my shy, black onyx eyes,
I survey you as a night watchman
would a masked thief,
one slowly creeping toward its target,
using the white stripes populating the length
of my back as a navigation map to my
heart, a mere ploy to distract me, to conquer me,
but with my spiral horns limned with ivory,
so deceiving in their angelic color,
I will pierce you as would a spear,
droplets of blood cascading
down your vein-marked arm,
these specks of red recalling the tint
of my protective coat.

You observe my exterior marked by—
colors, shapes, textures,
concealing me behind fulvous grass,
the camouflage that hides me from you,
though when removed from this sanctuary,
this place of dense verdure,
my facade falters:
I am visible to all,
and thus stripped of my mask,
the mahogany, opaque veil I don,
you see my flesh composed of
soft tissue, muscle and fat
you see my elusive nature--
galloping away to seek cover,
peril enveloping me as would a net,
you see my distrust of you
you see me.