Cagefighter Girl

She was an oddity,

A rare caged bird

Twisting together ribbons and twine

To make a form confusing,

Martial Arts made her form a painting

Each strike of her fist or sweep of her leg

a paintbrush stroke

On the chaotic canvas of her life.

*

Head down,

Strands of hair clutching drops

Of sweat that magnified her solitude.

A softened glance

Sweeping colour on lips and cheeks

Letting fabrics swathe her

And remind her that her body was soft

As her care worn heart

*

She’d never sought out violence,

But it found her,

The grace of a dancer

To music or attack

*

Embracing bodies could mean

Passion or destruction,

It all got mixed in between,

Or so it would seem.

*

Two faces, one mask

One survivor, one afraid,

But all together,

She comes whole again.

*

You never met a girl who fights

With lethal hands that

Caress books,

She twirls

So full of rage, at times,

But mostly holding egg shells

Praying they don’t break,

That every ant might escape her feet

No destruction in her wake.