Do The Damage

He says venomous things
that have a life
and a barbed stinger of their own.
They fly unerring,
pierce the skin,
and cannot be removed.
They poison,
and she is shot full of them easily,
a soft target,
large and rounded.
She has felt them stab her
so often he no longer has to aim —
he holds his specimens out,
and she selects
those she thinks will please him most,
and stabs herself with them at her leisure.
It is more efficient
to do the damage herself, she thinks.
It is the one thing,
the only thing,
she knows she can do better
than anyone else.