If Looks Could Kill

A blow that fell me down,
My brows that hurts to drop,
Mouth that pains to close,
Hands that go up in surrender,
Feet that totters on the fairway,
Head that bows,
Heart that skips
Every moment it beats,
Stomach that suffers from flies,
And soul, that utters words of retreat.
With every eye I cast on her,
A li’l more I die.
And then, the ruthless sighs
In urgent hope:
“If looks could kill!”