I march to the corner of the square circle. The ring.
The crowd is ecstatic and cheering, yet I don’t hear a thing.
My senses are heightened. My focus sharp.
The silence. It’s deafening.
Anxiety waning. My intention, dark.
The ref calls us in. He reminds us of rules.
As he makes us touch gloves, I glare at my opponent’s eyes…
To look deep into his heart.
He attempts to hide his weakness inside. As do I.
We both know what’s at stake here tonight.
At the moment of truth,
the fight bell rings thrice.
Marking the start of the tango.
We stalk, and we pounce.
Moving left. Moving right.
Testing and probing,
searching for clues.
The path we should take to inflict and subdue.
Feinting and jabbing,
we observe reactions and actions.