when the fist swings and meets flesh

“Lost Temper: argument

the floor is far away… despite the contact of bare feet on carpet, the floor,
is far away
consciousness floats at mind level, peering down, condemning the separate aspects that make up the whole…
the floor is still far away
shards, slivers, fragments of colored glass… hand-blown or is that blown by hand? Perhaps we are not meant to understand, the useless posturing… the floor
is far away
velocity has a texture all its own, brute strength, energy passed from one to the other, an object at rest… flung in a parabolic arc to intersect the hand with the eye… yet
the floor
remains far away
shattered and falling… a rainbow splattered, an artiste would pause, mid-stride…
astonished visage and open hands reaching, reaching in supplication and…
narrowed squint, the floor is far away
a limp… no passive… no… the floor… each segment expands and dilates and
in that nanosecond before…

all, becomes clear, and the floor
is not now
so far away

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3 thoughts on “when the fist swings and meets flesh

    • Thanks. Domestic violence is such a taboo subject despite all the progress made. Economics is behind much of the abuse and it’s always the victim who is blamed. A small effort on my part to open a discussion.

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