The wild woman goes against the grain.
She holds her middle fingers up to the patriarchy,
redefining what it means to be both woman and wolf.
Her nonconformity, a rebellious act.
A liberation from the shackles that seek to chain her.
She knows her power, she finds solace in her intuition,
and in her ability to transmute energy with her bare hands.
Her presence needs no introduction,
silently she commands the room.
Her aura extends ripples throughout the forest,
compelling the trees to dance at her will.
One drop of her will send shivers down your spine.
Too much for some, but she likes it that way.
She prefers to watch the weak choke on her magnetism,
than pacify the world with a watered-down version of her woman and wild.