The Giraffe-Lion

Her neck grows as tall as a lamppost.
Around her head is a crown of matted hair.
Her body is that of a large cat’s
Decorated with short yellow hairs
Th at outline various hex-through-octagons.
She, the giraffe-lion, roars, “Good evening,”
As she slips her purple tongue out
To catch the full moon flakes.

I hug her long awkward neck, as she nuzzles the nape of mine.
The beast breathes the smell of carnage,
And the exhalations seep through my pores.
I feel lighter.

Her honey crystals meet my grey ones
As the tips of our noses touch.
The point in between shines in the moon flakes.
As the giraffe-lion roars and damages my eardrums,
The groundwork for friendship beats in my ears.

Her honey crystals dampen.

Reviews

[Journey]

I like this!
It took me to a place that I would like to spend more time in. I think that it is very creative and I appreciate your imagination.