The Lion Who Is Not a Lion (Spoken Word)
I hear the ruffle before the roar. The brush moves. The air shifts. Instinct says run. But my body— does not move. The Lion comes. Not beast. Not claw. But tall, braided, bronze. Skin like fire dressed in chocolate. Eyes that burn. A roar that shakes the ground. Fight? Useless. Flight? Gone. I am caught—
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