ZA Furries

Butterflies in a glass orb.
Dancing in their graces,
flitting around.
Circling,
gliding.
Fluttering.

A beating heart.

Companions, two in tandem.
Never close, never far.
Meant to want to be where they are.

Closed, surrounded,
in their transparent cage.
Watched,
Onlookers gazing,
At the dancing, beating wings.

Flushing down the crimson valley,
a tidal wave - moving fast,
rushing through my soul's alley -
a curse that you have cast

for the thought of your love moves me,
holding you tight - it shatters foundations.
Our warm winter cuddles I want to be,
your face - my infatuations.

But these waves never stop coming down,
these passions - their tortures never end.

Is this then love -
calling your name in the winter wind?
Is this then love -
longing for your warm embrace?

From deep within the ocean blue,
I see your face - a starry hue

From oceans deep, I see your face -
a starry sky, an empty place.
Beneath leagues of icy water plains,
I call for you - my soul's refrains.

When I'd hold you tight in a warm embrace -
would it be as wonderful as I think it to be?
Your fluffy yeen sneaking up from behind,
arms sliding around your waste, beautifully outlined -
would this loving surprise, a fursuit snug,
be as lovely as it seems to be?

Can't we just cuddle on our couch,
your chosen film buzzing through the night?
My whispers warm as we cozily slouch -
our priceless love, having taken flight.

My call to your unanswered face -
a fluttering echo in this sunken place.

Valentine's Day sucks
Commercial scam holiday
Buy more chocolate

Your fluffy yeen sneaking up from behind,
arms sliding around your waste, beautifully outlined

Galahad wrote: ↑Sat Feb 09, 2019 2:38 pm Ryall, this academic question you pose is a mystery indeed. Oxford has enlisted me to decipher it. Let us begin, shall we?
If you will kindly turn your attention to the third and fourth of the second stanza, you will notice this vital piece of information:

Your fluffy yeen sneaking up from behind,
arms sliding around your waste, beautifully outlined

Pay careful heed to the word selection. Each word is carefully selected - poets are deliberate creatures who never make mistakes.

"Arms sliding around your waste".

This conveys the image of a hyena who has a passion for trash; a love for garbage; an insatiable infatuation for refuse. A truly trashy creature.

Ryall, there can be no question: this is definitely you. Rejoice in the immortalization of your character in such a moving mental image.
...

Ryall wrote: ↑Sat Feb 09, 2019 12:31 pm @ Superlegend, who is the yeen?

Galahad wrote: ↑Sat Feb 09, 2019 2:38 pm Ryall, this academic question you pose is a mystery indeed. Oxford has enlisted me to decipher it. Let us begin, shall we?
If you will kindly turn your attention to the third and fourth of the second stanza, you will notice this vital piece of information:

Your fluffy yeen sneaking up from behind,
arms sliding around your waste, beautifully outlined

Pay careful heed to the word selection. Each word is carefully selected - poets are deliberate creatures who never make mistakes.

"Arms sliding around your waste".

This conveys the image of a hyena who has a passion for trash; a love for garbage; an insatiable infatuation for refuse. A truly trashy creature.

Ryall, there can be no question: this is definitely you. Rejoice in the immortalization of your character in such a moving mental image.

Also my vote went to Nixie for the adorable artwork, even if I was tempted to make a meme with that old granny with the glasses trying to read the screen, with the caption "Valentine my".

Leeward wrote: ↑Tue Feb 19, 2019 8:13 pm Hey, haikus are witty! I spent all of 5 minutes writing that!