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Click hereSoft butterscotch fur
and murderous claws,
sheathed within gentle paws;
a sharp reminder of her wild side.
Idly she stretches,
ochre eyes half closed.
A deceptive picture of lazy apathy,
ready to pounce
in a heartbeat
should the mood strike.
But afternoon fades to grey
and the deadly assassin sleeps,
twitching with bloody dreams
of unwitting prey
she’ll slay.
But not today.