His middle parts were
Passing through the couch that I was
Sitting on, but his
Face felt nice and fuzzy.
And it was way too
Way too loud.

Ocean water, creeping
Up the black-sanded beach
On the island where 
He drank his ***.
And he's telling lies to any
Crustaceans brave enough to
Traverse his thinning limbs.

Yet, reflecting neatly 
Off the ebony, and decisively
Catching his eye, is the light of her
Tiara, embracing her
Maneless neck.
In walks Nala, and the tide,
His tide, recedes.
The island becomes
Her savannah.

I watch him smile, and 
Close his eyes, and
Soak the moment in. 
Her claws extended, sharp,
Etching proof of her
Arrival into the eager,
Earthy floor.

Owning the steps she takes,

I shudder and attempt to stand.

But stop, as she paws his wrist,

Gripping it tighter,

Scarring him with 

Pointed, filed nails. 
Making him 

Bleed, and making 

Him beam.

Pride is just a 
Noun when there is
Hemorrhaging to handle.
Pressure must be
Applied on all sides of the 
Wound, in order to prevent
Infection, and infatuation.

But I guess when a 
Beast of beauty, makes a black
Sea walkable for you, 
You're liable to get caught up
Staring at the jewels
She's ripped out of her crown, and 
Sewn into her hair. She'll make you 
Hiss back at the sun, and
Talk about wild life.