Tuesday, January 14, 2014

Me and the Moon

The moon is a boxer
A crossways eye rimmed pink and blue
Wide, rolling, frenzied
Clinging to ropes of black glory.

I am a fighter
Small fists, big heart clenched
Tremulous, terrified, savage
Dancing on the brink before the bell.

Tag team, we will swing and jab and swing again.
Nighttime is our square, spectators stars, a full house.
For the good of a cause with no need to be named
We take the hits from relentless forces

Insatiable, taking us piece by piece for their own.
By minutes, surge for surge, we snatch ourselves back
And rise from the dirty floor, always, every time.
We do not allow ourselves a choice.

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