Punching Bag

As you hang there
suspended raw in this box
I'm tempted to submit

Your rough weltered exterior
has seen better days
withstood to passing seasons
your calling transports me
a younger version

For hours on end
I would beat you
never limp but always sturdy
tied up and restricted from
reciprocation
yet, never satisfied
no matter how much you gave me

Most abhor your odors
I endure willingly
tap, tap, tap
you swing back towards me
shifting out of the way
now I thump - again (now I thump)
I reset for the next volley

A squeak between the
hard, fast, methodical thumps
sweat glands pouring
controlled animal breathing

focus unbroken, I beat you
for today
Tomorrow
we play again

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