When running up
to a finish line
you will feel
swords
in your chest
You must decide then
whether to ignore them
or stop to draw them forth
to either die there
or recover and finish
or even win
No choice is wrong
but what happens
to your swords
after you choose
That’s a puzzle
with its own sword hanging over it
Leave them in
and push through and perhaps
you die or turn cold
and twisted in pain
Pull them out and contaminate all
with your blood as you fail
or finish or win
without them
but leave them behind
so others flay themselves
as they approach you
standing there
laurel-decked and
whistling from
all your holes
Aftermath is where
right and wrong
come out to play
Aftermath
is everything
in this race
