We circled each other like spitting cats, attempting to redefine boundaries.
He's still scarred from my claws, I let him set the terms of combat.
He lashes out, I acknowledge the damage. I show my belly.
As the words continue to fly, I rise up. Give me everything you have, I tell him, hurt me badly.
It'll refine my edges.
His attacks stop.
He retreats.
Thursday, March 19, 2009
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