A Casual Battle

il y a
1 min
I prepare.
My arsenal ready.
It is time, the time has come.

The lamp flickers on the teak table.
The sooty shade appears glossy
Like an oil stain, yet uninteresting.
It smells of putrid cheese here,
Cheap perfume maybe as well.

I write in blue, no not turquoise.
Rather navy, something like
Chunks of coal mixed in the sky.
But the sky does not rain inferno
It still weeps, everyday, somewhere.

Her face is sepia; soiled and weary.
She waits, expecting, hoping, excited.
She wants to bear my creation,
Marks and symbols, tattoos etched.
She is priced at an euro per dozen.

It starts.
The battle begins.
There is no turning back.

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