Holding Pattern

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
four minutes of life--from one of the two perspectives

Submitted: September 24, 2009

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Submitted: September 24, 2009

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We glare at each other.

Fingers and palms clench the countertop’s edge.
Forearms stiffen, biceps and shoulders bulge.
Tendons threaten to erupt from flushed necks.
Jaws and teeth grit.
Taunt, primed bodies hold.

Every muscle waits to lunge, to grapple, to strike.
Enraged, four crimson-tinted hazel eyes lock.
Liberated thoughts are revealed on our faces.
Clamped lips part to reveal
Livid tongues now let loose.

“I hate you.”
“I want to kill you.”

Deadlock.

We hold our thoughts, we hold our tongues.
We hold fast, each of us bound to the other.
As minutes pass, tearful eyes begin to question.
Relinquishing our holds.
Anger yields to compassion.

“I’m sorry.”
“I’m so sorry.”

Truce.

We surrender the mirror.


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