cigarette smoke hangs in the air like gunsmoke,
the sofa has become a battleground.
its soft cushions hold nothing but fear.
my policy is appeasement - i distract you with kisses.
your hands are weapons, lying idly by your side,
waiting to strike. i watch them wearily.
your eyes say war declared but it's a phoney war,
stillness reigns. tension laces through the room.
i use the interim to brace myself,
i wait for your lips to find mine.
you push me back - battle begun.
a relentless blitzkrieg, i am being blown up.
i am rubble now, broken down.
but little by little, i gain my ground.
i stumble for the door, your hands wipe at nothing.
victory tastes like crisp winter air.
