Love is a soft tendril,
a whispered hollow
through the eyes of an assassin for hire,
or anything for hire,
he doesn't mind most things,
because the empty cave
can be treated like a home,
a body can be treated like a weapon,
and he has spikes to cover his heart,
and yet, it's her touch
that reminds him that spikes are just a defense
and they can be discarded in an instant,
and it's her words
that teach him that love can be:
heartfelt and kind,
all at once,
an exotic beat
that draws him near,
the sound of it is almost
too much to bear,
and yet, he comes towards her,
approaches her,
let's her kindness be nearly pierced through
by his spiky armor,
because despite it,
he finds her hard to resist,
he doesn't attempt to win her heart,
has no feathers to his hat now,
but he loves and treasures this moment,
the way it tastes,
the way it breathes,
and all she offers him is friendship,
but that is almost too much to bear.