Like a feline that’s feeling compressed,
I need to stretch.
And while I’m on my back,
legs saluting the most high,
would not deny a tummy scratch.
But watch out thereafter,
for a prowling tiger,
deliciously pleased with a back extension,
on the wild grasses of a wide savannah.
I’ll be seeking a partner
for mature games;
Yet, like innocent kittens,
we could begin, with whiskers tickling,
as paws, pat in play,
concealing our ferocious nature,
like the canines in our maw.
Duly working up a sweat
underneath our brightly, striped coats,
the pond best prepare to meet our charge.
Unbothered by the heat,
the emerald water will quiver
as we disturb her serenity.
She shall dance
while washing our overcoats and underpants,
and before kicking each sodden kitty out.
Whence, as if re-baptized a brute,
my fearless heart rediscovers feral pursuits.
Back on the prowl,
secreted beneath the brush,
out comes the beast
in a primeval thrust.
Pity, I shan’t be able to warn my partner:
No more meek mannered tussles,
for a tigris cannot continuously forsake her primal instincts.