I added frontal motion to the story about those looks of yours that intimidate, m’lord. 
Visual surprise comes with an infrequent snow flake or embers 
floating down to our nose level. That’s cool — creamed just for dating you, blackmailed —   
 
wandering into the new wrong murder guild  
 
chopped into little squares of hypnotic drumming  
 
and massive pulses projecting smiles and feeling 
invisible. Totally insane. M’lord’s libido.