She learned
how to fight
from me,
put her gloves
up
on her bed;
red training Everlasts
the foam lasting
forever
even as other
fists made their way
to her heart,
the repeated blows
just gave her a lover's
brow,
a permanent bruise
against
intrusion,
She
learned how to move her
feet
from how I walked away
from her, learned
how to rip
through defenses
just by watching someone's feet,
how they move,
how they react,
how flat-footed they are
all those Converses stacked in a corner
like scalps,
that's why she's always looking
down, away from the eyes
where the most damage is done,
away from the chest
where a good jab can **** you,
to the feet,
always watching against the next move,
preparing herself
to dance away.