Ronald Shields - The Hunt

Her face is a lightning strike
with prowling eyes
and razor sharp lips,
her tongue a dagger for an unfortunate heart.
She will kiss like an angel
with a viper's sting.
This is a dangerous love,
a scent that will not be denied.
Those hunting eyes pierce my swaggering shield.
The blood is up.
I am primed for the chase.
Hungry for the kill.

Ronald Shields

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-hunt-23/