Cellophane is tougher than me. Spider’s silk, too. My mouth may spew
and my tendons may tense but you could poke a hole right through
my shell and shatter my heart. Don’t do it. Have mercy, won’t you?
I’ve the fortitude of Venus with the melancholy rings of Saturn
and you possess the pride of Mars. Stay your slings and break
your arrows, relinquish for me the pride that comes between us.
© Tina Zabielski 2011-2019