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Pack Alpha

22 May

Fangs elongated as he drinks
In the air with flared nostrils,
The scent of prey arouses:
His blood … his hunger … his lust

He saunters in her direction,
All around her dulls, she beckons
The air moves to let him stalk:
Her blood … her hunger … her lust

A wolf hunting under the moon
Stars don’t cast her reflection,
Too pure to understand the danger:
His blood … his hunger … his lust

Her attar teases his claws held.
With juvenile naivety he strikes,
Too late he sees truth in a look:
Her blood … her hunger … her lust

She mocks his blind attack,
The wolf recoils within his skin.
Too strong for him, she isn’t prey:
His blood … her hunger … their lust

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Posted by on Wednesday 22nd May, 2013 in Poetry

 

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