I used to wield my body like a weapon. My soul was starving, forever fretting and yearning. I always knew what painful misfortune each little innocent flutter of eyelashes would inflict. I was a precision instrument. A whistling arrow. An inlaid dagger, gilded and ceremoniously deadly. A noose made of lace, if you’d prefer it.
True love has made me soft and innocuous. I prefer it to that crazed powerful hunger.
But I look in the mirror and sigh. I am no longer deadly. Just a soft woman now.
Harmless as a mouse.
Revelation In Thunder 