in ,

Peace Interlude

‎98—63—4

‎Enter.

‎Password incorrect.

‎Two more tries.

‎98—36—4

‎Enter.

‎Password incorrect.

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‎Tremors,

‎palpitations,

‎sweat—

‎try to breathe.

‎Breathing’s easy.

‎That’s why they say

‎it’s as easy as breathing.

‎But when was the last time

‎it was easy?

‎When?

‎Tell me

‎and all the gold in the world is yours.

‎You could use some gold,

‎couldn’t you?

‎To fix those frayed nerves,

‎to soak those blistered feet.

‎So tell me—

‎do you even remember?

‎Close your eyes.

‎Take your time.

‎Visualize.

‎Visualize.

‎Visualize.

‎Can you see it?

‎98…

‎98…?

‎No—

‎89…

‎89…63…4.

‎CLICK.

‎Door swings open—

‎a metallic box

‎they told you is home.

‎Right foot,

‎left foot;

‎right foot,

‎left foot.

‎Your armor’s heavy,

‎smeared with blood,

‎dented

‎from Goliath blow

‎after blow

‎after blow.

‎The blood’s not yours

‎but your body’s sore.

‎Clang to the floor:

‎helmet,

‎breastplate,

‎left gauntlet,

‎right gauntlet.

‎Left side of the brain too—

‎but coddle the right.

‎Precious,

‎precious

‎like a newborn.

‎So precious

‎you could cry.

‎Your feet fail.

‎Dawn is

‎two hours away

‎but there’s no time

‎to wash off the grime.

‎Find what peace,

‎what sleep

‎you can—

‎because with dawn

‎comes

‎another

‎fight.

PEACE INTERLUDE by Bryson Tiller

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