Our ways are mild
but we have tigers in the blood.
We speak them smooth
but ice runs in our veins:
we would tear the heart out of an enemy
as easily as we would break bread
or pull a lettuce.
Nobody knows us,
the daughters of the lie.
At a sticking point,
the heath is as good a bed for us
as any sanctioned mattress.
With mercy to all
we have pity for none.
Although they lie with us
and stroke the sheepskin,
they never see the wolf.
The fangs and claws
are in the mind and heart,
and nobody is spared.
We have kestrel's eyes
and our kin are the wildness and the wet.
Come, the feast is spread.
You can sate yourself on me
and never taste my truth.
http://bigbridge.org/BB17/bios/bios-M-to-R.html#Tanya_Mendonsa
