and if i was to
fence
with the human condition to
prove what it’s worth
who would stand alongside
to judge
each
touch
and if each flick would
align stars
constellating across
the chest, and each lunge would
(frame by frame)
fraction the blades-width between
myself and
mortality, would i then be
irreversibly immortal
and would we ever truly
touch, if the boundaries of particles can be
defined as space then my aren’t we
galaxies apart, emotionality
and i
and at the end of the bout
would our footwork not mark our
styles, design us
by the nature of our
elegantly moving
soles