To boldly face

She slaps me in the face,
full and forceful.
I don’t turn away.

For the first time in a long time,
I don’t cower
like a homeless house rat
at the hunger of a cat.

My fingers don’t fumble
no shiver down my spine,
like a book lover
caressing a binder.

Instead, I smile.
My hair leaps from its pedestal,
tickling my nose.
I sniff as it goes.

For every slap in the face,
I shower back smiles.
Warm spring breeze.

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