Combat by Moonlight


You look different under the moonlight.

Even more unfathomable, if it is possible
You stand under that cold, pale light,
Your eyes covered by the darkness,
And all I see are the sharp countours of your face
Where the peaked moonlight rests
On the high arc of your nose
And your prominent cheekbones.
But nothing more.
Tonight, you are a mixture
Of white and black,
Of light and shadow;
The moon and the night
Serenely draped around your shoulders -
Two oppositions,
Two cloaks you wear,
Two identities you assume:
Innocence and Danger,
Life and Death,
Blanc et Noir.

You are the paradox,
Unfathomable as ever.

But tonight we stand here on the rooftop,
With five feet of glazed shingles between us
And more behind us,
Our muscles tight, breath steady;
Adrenaline, like a furious dragon,
Rushing from head to fingers -
The source of our power,
Controlled only by the sheer strength of our will:
My will which is strong;
Your will which is stronger.

I strike.
Somehow I see in your face,
As the black sky streaks behind me,
That you are not surprised.

I do not even see the sidestep you make
To avoid my blow with unconscious complacency.
I catch my breath and turn around
And neither am I surprised.
You face me without a sound,
The moonlight and the darkness shifting sides.
I feel my pulse on my cheeks
And my clenched hands tremble from the expectation
Of the coming exchange of blows.
Yet your fists are not even raised.

I do not even ask why.

I smile faintly
And I drop my fists.
In comparison to you
I am nothing.
You surpass me
As the gods surpass the mortals.
Every skill I have mastered,
You have mastered twice.
Every prowess I have achieved,
You have achieved tenfold.
And so as we stand here
Ready, two lionesses
Tensed for the fight,
The question that must be asked
Is not why I bother
To pit claws against you

But why you bother
To pit claws against me.

But I only ask myself this question,
For you are the everlasting paradox,
Ever changing,
Ever constant in changing,
So much so that you will not understand
Why I would even ask this question,
For I know you have enough trouble
Understanding yourself,
Understanding your own irony.

You still stand there, unmoving,
Waiting for me to strike again,
Willing me to raise my fists against you.

I space out my legs
And I do.
You notice this, and you tilt your head,
And the moonlight slides across your face,
Overcoming the dark side,
And suddenly I see your eyes:
Deep as the void,
Boundless as eternity,
But they smile at me.
People say that the eyes are the mirror of the soul,
But they never said whose soul was being mirrored,
For as I stare at yours, I do not see your soul,
But instead I see my own image
Reflected in your eyes.
And I know
That as you look at mine
You see your own.

I smile back
Because I understand.

I lunge at you,
And at the last moment
You spring into action,
Parrying my coming blow
And giving me your own
In an effortless dance,
Light and evanescent,
Until you have finished your volley.
You flip into the air
And land quietly behind me.
I am panting, blood rushing into my face,
Pain oozing out from the every portion of my body
That you had tapped with your fist.
But you wait for me to catch my breath,
Patient as an ancient rock.
I steady myself and raise my fists again;
For the third time this night, I leap into the air,
My fists reaching for you,
And I am smiling

Because I understand
That you need me
As I need you.

You who have the matchless power
Of skill and speed
Incomparable to any human being;
In this life of ours
Where we stand back-to-back,
Guns held high in defiance and silence,
One at the east, one at the west;
In this paradoxical life of ours
Of finding the light amidst the darkness,
It is you who give me strength

And it is I
Who give you meaning.

Tonight, you stand there at the edge of the roof shingles,
Silent, unscathed,
Victorious once more in one of our nocturnal combats,
While I sit in front of you, heaving,
My hand raised in resignation,
My body exhausted, my throat gasping for breath,
My legs and arms weary and heavy like lead.
But I am laughing, laughing
In short, ragged breaths,
But laughing sweetly nonetheless,
For I now understand
The impossibility of you fighting me
If I wasn't there.

You look surprised.
The moonlight and the dark passes over your face in cycles
As you watch me in my inexplicable laughter.
And as you look at me with quiet concern,
I can only hope
That as you stare into my laughing eyes,
Under the cold, pale light of the moon,
You will see your own reflection
And understand the meaning
Of friendship.