Lithe and lethal mystery
I am an armored Lover
Little pincers, stinger tip
Adorned with pain and poison
Sharp and scalding, blistering
The lies we tell each other
Do not hate me for myself.
Who I am I cannot help.
A new take on an old tale. "A warning to the wise...beware, I am not what I seem to be."
Somehow, what you have written speaks of beauty - but that beauty has a price. Is it pain and suffering? Is it death? Or maybe it is all for show?
"I am an armored Lover" - that caught my attention straight away. Those few words gave me pause, and made me think. It set things up for the balance of your tale (not that "Lithe and lethal mystery" didn't - those words set the tone for sure). It's just that that second stanza took it from fairy tale to reality for me. Many of us have become hardened (armored) over the years...it's self-preservation. Yet...we still look for more (and want to be a Lover). With each new tryst, we become victim or victor...or better yet, a partner.
Well, to say the least, I do not "hate" you for being you. In fact...anyone that tells you to change (unless it is for your own well being), give them a well deserved sting ;)