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[A.K.A.T.D.N.]

THese women make you reel, though you want to steal,
A look to take home and warm yourself to such colder glares
Or fears or being nothing but a leopard without spots to share,
In the plain pace of their lair, there's the tiger meandering
A stream of consciousness, I can't pass nor pounce
THe lunkers of fish downsteam and make happy claws
Peel my flesh from th pink flesh I so feel raw.
Of the deer pawing for rest beside the river's roil
He stirs with his deft paws placed pefectly poised
Am I forgotten, forlorn, without these spots to match,
IN a junsgle of concrete and brick meshed?
I await to climb my fence and wait there perched.
Those eyes are my tanalizing glare too, animal-like
Cool and stuck in a zoo without a menagerie of meaning
TO make me chase my tail to please her instinct insane
So civilly she sits on the fence post feeding me crumbs to chew.