Blowback
Words,
a mouthful of sonic projectiles,
little payloads of hurt,
rage-tipped,
enough pain
to stop any assailant,
ready to explode into the
few feet of air between
you and the target,
punch through,
expand.
No entry wound,
no exit wound,
all internal trauma,
capping verbal crossfire
in a little
domestic drama.
Split-second decision.
Do you pull the trigger,
claim victory,
and concede a kind of defeat?
Or do you uncock the hammer,
knowing there'll be
casualties,
one at
each
end?
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