Prizewriter

I must have been a prizewriter.

I wrote myself right in.

I didn't play for money,

I just played to win.

I played a bout

of bob and weave

as an indecisive scholar.

But I saw myself just

shadow-boxing

with an undefeated brawler.

My words were cautious

cover-ups. I dodged

the feints and fouls.

I found myself there

on the ropes.

I wrote in only vowels.

I played for hearts,

not kidney punches;

a possum jab pretender.

I thought I could

lead right with love;

a powerful contender.

I felt the blows;

the jab, jab, hook.

I saw the winning prize.

I thought that love

was ours to write.

But I watched

the ink bleed dry.