NDJ:8 Hemda Arad

Bitter Skies

Lone tiger on the couch Mulling ideas of a kill If she cannot eat the muscles Of a lovely he, She would ax the

High cheek bones Of her rival tiger-ine.

Bloody tiger-ine walks her buns All across the savannah. Deep in a tent lies A fuming unconsummated Wrinkled tangerine in heat.

Rest your desire to sleep My envious treacherous soul Tomorrow your sorrow will vanish

As a cinder lightly afloat. 

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