Above her stilettos
upon one firm calf
beneath sparkly fishnets
rests a cobra-wrapped stilleto.
It’s a tattoo
but no less dangerous
as I watch the tattoo
and its owner
warily
knowing full well
this cold blooded creature
will strike
or slash
whenever she wishes
and despite my constant vigilance
through effortful
rock-hard stares
I am defenseless.

She has other tattoos:
broken hearts above the breast
and a broken skull
beside her shoulder.
I watch then all
carefully
waiting for the attack.