Monkeys with Knives
Two circling beasts armed to the teeth
Praying not to hurt the other.
Misquoting Nietzsche
love is madness
Engarde!
A lunge for the jugular. Dodged!
And missed and spun and nicked
And bleeding
Only a flesh wound
Let it, please god, be only
the type that leaves no scar
Like brain freeze already fading
From a slushie drank too quickly
Blood red and not quiet frozen
From a heart not quiet hard
The monkeys panting
Each breath reminds the scars to scream
to bleed to be cut once more.
madness has reason
And the monkeys circle again.