we each have our own destiny to reach
mine is a daily quest for compromises
when he drops sentiments like heedless crumbs
I pick them up at his feet, determined not to grovel
but to hoard them somewhere in my mind
reduce them to powdery bits of memories
refine these until they turn silken smooth
how perfect they will become as weapons
of destruction when I can exact my own revenge -
the sweeter the stronger it will be the more it is delayed

Meantime I will bide awhile and wait patiently
for signs that the real duel will begin.
as we poise like fencers and I have gained
confidence to strike, deflect and wound.

My quest will then be over
I will win the trophy in this battle of wits
I will be sharp and never flinch.

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