A Winter’s Tail

Now you are a lion

in this dim lit room.

Your watchful eyes

scan mine like cubs,

I like your chest &

heart too wry for our

un-slice of time. Post-

captive & plain, our

fluid tooth of force,

one whole world in

a world. A thing of

snow now loud with

masculinity fights

mine, half quiet

as mechanism, the

happy hour paws, we

wrestle our trestle, all

exit, pursued by a bear.