She watches with a lion's guarded glance, Harnessed power gathered in her wake. She picks each word precisely, makes them dance; A candor in her creatures cannot fake. Her arms are dragons burned into the flesh, Her legs the grinning patience of the shark; The world and all its cruelty was her crèche, Sliced her senses, like scalpels in the dark. Each scar she wears is patterned from her valor, Twists of wisdom behind a narrowed eye But cutting, burning, falling cannot kill her - Heaven knows, at every turn they try From every plummet she emerges neat, Intact, enhanced, bemused and on her feet.