fisticuffs

it isn’t
that he wanted
to fight
but the thought
of exchanging
fisticuffs
made the doldrums
of the day
seem less
inconsequential
in some
mesmerising way

so he spat
blood
with fragments
of tooth
onto the rain slicked
sidewalk
with a wary smile
that showed somewhat
a physical manifestation
of the inner agony
was a victory
against the forces
that churn
within
his butterfly filled
bruised guts

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