The Orange of My Wildness

I was born with unopened eyes,

skin striped black with shadows of my ancestry,

a roar that resonates in my bones

calls me to the water,

and to the hunt.

They tried to cage me once,

to snuff out the orange of my wildness,

file down my fangs,

told me I could live on

packaged, processed meat.

I chuffed at them

having taken the mangroves as my lover,

his salted bark the perfect reflection,

both of us camouflaged between earth

and sea.

He never seeks to tame my roaming ways,

paws itching for unfamiliar earth,

claws ever carving new ground

He simply lets me breath, unmuzzled,

free to embrace my soft feminine wild