She stalks her prey through grasses tall, in savannah brown, dressed for this ball. This dance begins downwind of breeze, queen lioness on bended knee. Hunched low in dress so still in wait; a drying pool, the zebra bait. A shift in wind stripes pick the scent so startled now queen in descent. She lunges…


We are all a dream in draft. MT

The write-side of the brain

Let ink tattoo that fine-grained plain, bleeding life into every fibrous pore. Let pen strokes rest in synchronized mess; undress your right, take flight, explore. MT


What she could see in a beautiful flower is all that he could see in her. MT