The song of my people, long forgotten, plays in the sways of grasses at river's bottom.
Our language lost in the wind, whispers to the great trees like a long lost friend. Our footsteps long covered with snow, our bones resting in the Great Mother, lost long ago. The song of my people, long forgotten, plays in the sways of grasses at river's bottom.

The essence of his sweet kiss lingers on my lips as would a cold winters  breeze softly blowing through the sunlit autumn leaves. the memory of his arms so tight around my body, so familiar, so right. my soul searches for him at night, lost in my dreams, I see my elusive black fox. he plays a game of cat and mouse. little does he know he plays with the Shehawk, she who is wise, and watches him from the safety of her skyhouse. she knows he's dangerous but she is still curious, intrigued, drawn in. Who will win? What game are we playing? Black fox, why are we waiting?

I laid eyes on a most beautiful creature.
Tall, Dark, and Handsome, My Black Fox.
Eyes that Pierce, with ridiculously handsome features.
I cared not, that I was opening Pandora's Box, full of tempting jewels and deadly treasures.
Beautiful Trickster
Handsome mister
My white bird of winter
My Black Fox
Elusive
Strong
Free.