Wild Like

Black Panther Bill Fleming


Pushing in the dark,
looking for a feeling,
knew you were there—
somewhere a panther panting.

A whisker of wind tickling,
a sudden calm before us,
the leaves warning—
a tremor beware.

Like trees brought together,
bending in a hold,
clinging to the sway—
swinging into gray.

I smelled the smoke
of a hundred years ago,
a parlor fire I could fit in whole,
and laid beside you.

First the flush,
our hunger incomplete,
until the heat—
a can’t stay away silk.

My mind a marshmallow
stuck in defeat,
in your elevating flame.


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