Non-Erotic PoetryThe GameThe tiger moves through the jungle;
quiet, striped, and dangerous.
Stalks her prey,
moving closer,
hiding in the grass.
Yellow eyes,
glittering.
Intense,
the body rolled up, prepared.
The mighty roar!
The jump out into the glen!
Claws and fangs
sinking into
a plastic squeaky-toy.
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