runs snarling, thinks she's prey.
so i brush her furnace orange hair
and stroke her slender shoulders where
she shakes and shudders,
ears flat back
and waits for punishment.
but none will come-
it never does-
she snarls and turns away.
and in her raging lightning eye
and rolling thunder throat its plain
my wild fox needs me to fight
and i need her to tame.
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