The Broken Hearted Lion

By manunkind

The tawny lion
Grins and stretches his lithe legs
I am envious,
I want a fair main like his-
He knows, and teases me so.

Fluid gold flows, day
Grows cold- still, he runs freely.
I yawn, cold air bites.
I am the lioness, the
nocturnal hunter. restless.

It is almost time, but
For now we're content: aloof.
love his opal eyes
And his muscled brutish build
But not the vacancy within him.

Unauthorized Copying Is Prohibited. Ask the author first.
© 2006 voix de femme
Published on Saturday, May 6, 2006.     Filed under: "Poetry"
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Comments on "The Broken Hearted Lion"

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  • A former member wrote: such a tender, visercal allegory i could infer; love the muscle.structure and the sinew of this.... indeed...~ness

  • Spiritus_Frumenti On Saturday, May 6, 2006, Spiritus_Frumenti (341)By person wrote:

    this felt so natural in its savage tenderness...-l-

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