The Chase...a Winters' game
She senses him, musky, agitated, near. She pads nimble and quick, gaining speed as she closes, lips curl at his heels; he spins. Eyes laugh, teeth grin in the fleeing darkness. Haunches ripple.They thrash, limbs and teeth and tongues in exquisite savage consummation
the chase had gone on
out onto the lawn made out
in front of the dawn
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