The Morning After the Fight Before

The morning after the fight before
And I wake up still feeling sore

The tear at the corner of my eye
Slips out of a rent in my soul

Looking through the blur of then and later
Unwinding the knots combined
The flash of anger, the naked sword
That slashed through our cojoined mind

Leaving its liquid trail
Hurt and telltale

Who reaches out to fix the rout
Scrabbling ferociously through the growth
Looking for the hand held out
The safety net – a bed of reproach

Must there be the reparation
The tedious ritual of repair
The long laborious conversation
Or can we say – “nothing there”

But if there was nothing then
Whence the pain

If we care, we care
Else we don’t
Wiser words were rarely said
Here, there is never a ‘won’t’
There is no denying what must be denied
This is way beyond sanity’s stride

We have done this often
We’ve been here before
We know its the long haul
There is much to ignore

Moving on to move in close
Counting our battle scars
As old soldiers often retell
Bigger wars mean bigger stars

A scrap that lights up and flares ahead
A flare that signals fire
The fire that can tear and shred
Signaling kindling’s power

This must be sorted, this must be fixed
There are things that must be said
But here we are, as here we were
Staring hopelessly ahead
The doom is ours, inevitably so
Inextricably, Inexplicably, interbred.

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