agon onomatos
outside of the boxing ring
the whos and whats
become a blur.
outside of our bedroom,
outside of our bed,
the same.
there is the one who put me here,
there is the one i face.
there is the rain.
all tongue,
all friction,
ugly against beautiful.
//
and at the same exact time
he sits me down
(and you sit down)
leading me
beside Critias
of Callaischros
// 153ξ