butterflyinthebreeze

A dancing girl with fiery hair, Twirling smoke around her finger Dances in darkness for a sea of howling wolves Unclothed, her emptiness is put on stage To burn in the spotlight As claws scratch at the floor She plucks a hot cigarette from one of the fingers Puts it to her lips and takes a warm sultry drag "Look, but don't touch" she mutters, Stepping just close enough for a claw to rip into her thigh And she whispers into the snarling crowd "What more do you want?" as her hips and crimson lips rock smoothly and tempt softly And while her legs move, her eyes dance and smile, Unsolvable mazes of golden brown for irises. A subtle wink giv

The sound of weaving, woman's chore-- Mulan weaves on before the door. But now the shuttle's noise is drowned By Daughter Mulan's sighing sound. "Who, my girl, is in your thought? What memory has your mind caught?" "No one is in Mulan's thought, No memory has Mulan caught. The night before, I saw the post The Khan sent out to build his host. In scrolls of twelve did they proclaim The characters of Father's name. But Father has no eldest son, And Brother's not the eldest one. So I shall buy a saddled horse To take his place among the force." Now to the East for valiant steed! Now to the West for saddle's need! Now to the South to take the