my fingers wont stray from their iron embrace.
your words were fierce so your neck must break.
My rage is quick. tempered animals on the mend,
with instincts like mine, kill insects that leer.
you’re an insect-you steered too far from my grace.
(now you’re evil red) and may hope to break
my embrace with your mandible’s lower end
But Be Still! my fingers will unloose when your breath is queer.