Bearer of Humility

The feeling, unmistakable
I have her in my grasp,
and adrenaline courses through me
An avalanche of nerves, quivering,
but my thoughts are lucid as day
My vision does not waver
Her eyes lidless,
marbles of cracked granite
bisected with windows, pupils
Invitations, to the last abyss
Her mouth agape, but only slightly
The needles barely visible
concealed in sheaths of flesh
Their existence, violence incarnate
But the intention for it
is not there, not for me, not now
My energy is subdued
I am holding death,
between my thumb and forefinger
wrapped 'round my forearm
But she means no harm,
lest I move too quickly
She might become a writhing mass
Muscle, sinuous, hellbent,
desperately aiming to embed
a single fang, or both,
in the soft flesh of her captor
Should it happen,
the fault would be mine
I ignored her first defense
Her warning, the rattle,
the triangular head and keels
I needed to be closer,
to touch the bearer of humility
confident that she would know
my ultimate intention
And for now, she seems humbled too
Gently restrained by a curious giant,
but then released
I stand near her
shaking from the experience
and she watches me cautiously
as she yields and coils back
My eyes burn from not blinking,
but I am humbled
so is she