we fight our battles in different ways,
you and i. you lapse, and i sizzle:
your silence indicates discontent,
and i am busy shrieking from an open window.

on a different night i am waging war
against my body, and your hands and your sweat
and your hips on mine are the only force
that keeps me from falling apart.

maybe it is because you brought armor
to this fight, and i come bare-skinned,
open-handed: where fists win,
words fail entirely to make you love me.