I have learned
in the heat of the moment
to still
myself
to the point of death.

Rivers may run from temples,
clouds may crowd round spires,
I batten windows against the approaching storm.

Languidly
drawing a cavernous breath and meting it out slowly,
I receive every furious flurry with calculated calm,
knowing I will out stand them all.

A self satisfied smile
plays about my face
when my enemy is exhausted,
defeated,
deflated.

I don’t bleed anymore.

But sometimes
in the long dark night
I miss the echo
of a beating heart.

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