Skins; pale as the dying moon
Speech; slurred as the tranced Tsali’s
Our claws retracted
Our growls turned to purrs
The humbled lion’s teeth, now harmless.
Their guns; rusty from idleness.
Their chambers unloaded; bullets astray.
Our frowns; upside down
Our mood; servile and post coital.
Recovering from making love with cotton and silk.
Poised to overtake and control.
Gun chamber; loaded, soldiers; ready.
Our thoughts towards them; guileless
Our guard; let down
Blinded by the silver and cotton.
Shot off our golden thrones by silver bullets.