[Day 8] 365 Days of Poetry Writing

Day 8

Dry Quarrel

No clapping can be made

with one hand.

No quarrel can be made

with one mouth.

I must confess,

I am no good at this.

You are a master
of the Art of Quarrel.

Many a time,

I was led by your piercing questions

that were essential

to your winning.

I dodged no one bullet

from you.

I lost my voice,

and the quarrel.

We both lost.

We both lost.