Iron Fist

Your eyes like tension in a crowded room. A silent threat

in perfect bloom. Your footsteps echo razor thin, a warning stitched beneath my skin.

Your eyes are weapons dressed in grace, a quiet wound across my face.

You come so close. You feel

like dose. Your iron fist is colder than the truth I

hide. It bends my fear and pulls me to the other side.

A steel caress that tightens where my shadows live. You take control

of everything I fail to give. You breathe in signals sharp and