You are a fortress of a woman.

Your eyes are traps

That snap shut at disturbance.

Your jaw is a vise,

Keeping words tight-closed

Behind your teeth.

Your collarbones

Are needles,

Your ribcage

A pair of clawed hands

Holding your heart close

And hissing, mine.

Your hips are a bowl,

A shield curved against intrusion;

But I will try

To work my fingers

Between yours,

Closed tight as they are

In fists of self-defense.

I still want

To press my lips

To the underbelly

Of your being,

The vulnerable chink in armor,

The fragile-stitched seam.

I still want you.