panther girl

August 30, 2009

she is a mare whose mane was trimmed.
who, though pared down to parallels,
cannot pretend to parent her wildness.

Wildness.
you see for yourself, how her animal glee
shines slick in august streetlight,
where she is brilliance she is birth

her simpering stage smile does not (cannot)
entice forth the crocodiles she holds at sea.
she knows this and you feel it too! why you
eject lassoes toward her face i will never know.

her stallion leaping with sinew, brimming along her
sublevel spirit, snorts with a triumph delegated only to a Hero,
a Champion whose wounds are fresh and ever-present
, , , the sharpness found in sanity sheared.
her prowess pulls at powers in their physical absence. an abscess,
promise, prelude. she is panther pulled apart.
limbs that are gone, that tingle in contrition,
“i’m sorry i forgot to use you—I’M PURE. I AM PURE. I AM PURE.”

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