Nemesis
It's not the lines you made me write,
the stick you beat me with -
your consistency mattered.
You continued to exist,
even as the other I was drawn to fight,
and for that I shake your hand
with this clenched fist.
Hard Boiled - 2019 Rewrite
Handful of sweets like teeth launched straight into his open mouth makes you wince: head flipped back - trilby glued on - and all over in no time. Back to the broken nose you first saw; and the glare. Looking around won't help - how nerves work is his living. His thoughts aren't many but they're stark and made for this. Have to hope something happens out of a dream: He loses interest and leaves. Close your eyes like life won't end.
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