Trying to love other people begins to exhaust me
the third time I walk into the ring wanting a knock-out
and find two people cowering in opposite corners

with their gloves on.

Next time,
I will come to you bare knuckled.

we will pretend to circle each other
              pretend to

I want to love you without having to admit it.

                                spar kick punch

You never look better than when you've got blood smeared
over your front teeth, stringy curls in your eyes,
and bruised knuckles pressed to the cut above your lips

Next time,
I won't hand write it first.

Medical school and boxing are the same thing:
a desperate swing when you're back into a corner
roads and rivers and highways
                                                      I want to love you without getting hurt.
away from                                                             me.

Before the match is over:
seven years and I still dream of the single moment before
                                                                                          you kiss me
a bloodied hand in my hair, a stethoscope cold against my chest,
our boxing gloves hung up side by side in the closet.



                                                  and the Winner.