"Unfeeling armor" you say

Your arrows make the point

Blown in the winds of wifey whims
holding

Baiting breath on
sentences...

unfinished

Skin arched like a macabre black cat
Gentle products of a mean mother

Rattlesnake wine, hissing and licking

We are but governing bodies
Affects of gravity
Students of science

I would rather be blown to smithereens
   Than torn in half