Mother said you have to learn
To pull your punches
And how to stop them
I think
Just play dead
Do not fight back
Do not object
If you do the punches
Will be harder
And longer
I stroke Alice's hand
It is soft
I curl her fingers around mine
They are far too gentle
To make a fist
It is far better that we fight
With words now
Not quite peaceful
Not quite safe
Better perhaps
We whisper together
We both have scars
Mine visible
Hers inside
You never really leave underground
Behind you
There is always a memory
A clue
Reminding you of the adventure
The fight
The journey
I kiss her gently on the cheek
I am glad there are no punches today.
