[donyman]

We back-and-forthed it
for more than an hour
neither of us moved
but sometimes she
wanted to win
and sometimes I.
Sometimes the submission
seemed unbearable. We toyed
with the levers of hope:
holding them high
then losing our grips
she and I. What are we
playing with here,
the buttons in our minds?
What is connected to the feelings
in our loins? The balances
running through the words?
Until it was final
and what we drove
ached.