love.fight

I'm not a lover.

I'm a fighter...
...I crave Nescafes and towash.
...I embody that red-head fury that all want to assign to me
...I have it, and in between punches and knees to the head, I love it.

But I'm not a lover.
except for today...
...I had been anti-everything in mind, spirit, and stride
...I had made my annoyance apparent on my face, and I didn't care who liked it or didn't
...I had been a body of fury, and I smiled at it

And, then, he made me smile.
and I smiled again, and several times more.
...I am post-kneed in the heart
...I am love-punched in the crescent of my smile's crescendo
...I am knocked out

Five times today, five times this night
...I am blacked and blued, and vessel-broken
...I am swollen-eyed, and sliver shut
...I am lip-cracked, and bridge-bowed, and I love it

And I'm in love with it
because I didn't see it coming, and I had no reason nor chance to fight it.
...I was caught, guards-down
...I was caught, right chin
...I was caught

For he impressed me, the unimpressed
as he impressed upon me what it was to see
...despite the blacked and blued eye
as he impressed upon me what it is like to speak and smell
...despite cracked lips and a nose with fallen bridge
as he let me press and sink my senses into his bullet wound

I'm not his lover,
but I am his fighter
...I've loved him since that day
...I've known him just today
...I've been KO-ed with a simple share that hit the right spot.

But he won't know...
I love to fight him, and I fight to love him.