Her will is iron, baked in an ashy bleakness over eyes that were once bright
–she longs to break.
A thousand tears would evaporate on this impassible rage,
she glares with dull purity of thought.
Triumphant fists gloat above her potency, imploring
–she watches in scornful fascination.
Every breath rasps over the dagger in her throat, aching to be released.
she swallows harshly.
-she spins her web in secret -