She was an eagle shooting into the stratosphere,
a loaded canon flying through the sky in reverse.
With magnesium-coated wings that were labeled:
“BEWARE. Flammable when exposed to fear.”
She was a tiger stalking her prey in the savage night,
a shadow engulfing every poisionous strand of ivy.
With razor-sharp claws spelling out words in the dirt:
“BEWARE. Explosive when exposed to fright.”
She was a warrior clothed in her glimmering gilded cape,
a knife tucked beneath the slit of her dress.
With the words tattooed on her back, via White-Ink & Co:
“BEWARE. Perfection— a woman does not make.”