Battle

Our gazes align
Sharp with enmity.
His eye shadowed and cruel.
Mine bright and ready.


His intentions are clear
Clear as the spring air.
The misguided spring air,
That swirls around our still frames.

I can taste the blade in my hand.
The tang of chrome and steel
Licked by my fingers,
Anticipation my tongue.

He savors my fear,
A predatory joy.
Paints a smile on his lips
And aims for my scars.

But I am bright and ready.
Potent and shrewd.
He won’t find me
Easy prey today.