AFTER HEARING HER VOICE ON MY MACHINE
Consider the tempered steel shell of the helmet,
the visor's slitted squeak and click,
the silver broadsword's pointed glare,
the gorget around the Adam's apple like a silver hand,
And the ornate breast-plate of the cuirass,
the chain mail linking like a thousand tiny phrases,
the mace spiking like a gargantulan metal spore,
the tasset's hip overlapping insistence,
Then the thigh carressing twin hollows of the cuisse,
the creak and moan of the knee-keeping greaves,
the sabatons protecting the tiniest of toes.
Can even the most well-armored knight,
stop a ladybug from crawling under his chest-plate?
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