Wrestling angels is tiring. They always win
And are nice about it.
Which is mean, really, but they’re angels
And angels never lose.
The arena – here inside my head.
And the bout is between me
And Mr. Angel, who never loses.
The Bad Boy who roars and wrestles;
Mr. Angel, of course, who never loses.
Bad Boy fumes and mutters.
Mr. Angel’s nonchalant.