Stone-heart

There are exclamation points in your eyes.

three then four then five and six.

They are what my mother would have called

a quiver full of shooting arrows

meant straight for the heart.

What you and her don’t know

is that poisoned arrows

have a way of avoiding me.

I am the anti-dote

the anti-hero

the anti-thesis to all things love.

I am a waxen maiden,

with sweet nothings slipping off me.

The crystal queen,

fashioned of ice.

Hate me, for all I do is hate.

Fear me, for the flame in me has died.

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