Your fists carve up into my body like hooks lifting me to my toes. Searing cramps tear through me, waves of breathless pain. I lunge into you to pin your arms, then slam my forearm under your chin, into your throat.
So easily we have slid into cruelty, seeking ways to destroy the other. I slam a fist into the front of your shoulder again, and again, then grip your wrist and twist your arm, ducking under it to torque your elbow and put grinding pressure into the core of your rotator cuff. You have no choice but to buckle forward at the waist.
I interlace my fingers with those of your twisted hand, to free my other fist. I could uppercut your face - maybe I should have. But your dangling breast, barely contained in your top, is my target. I smash upwards into it, ripping it free of your top, crushing it against your ribcage, my center knuckle in the bulls-eye of your nipple.
“Take it, Lisa!” I snarl as you make an inhuman sound of pain…..