John D Robinson

No Reason

We had been drinking for three days,
we’d hardly slept or eaten: we had
just opened a bottle of wine and he
came at me, I don’t know why:
the punch to my face came from
nowhere and I sprung back in
shock and then fired three
punches to his face and head and he
hit the floor and through his cut
lips he began laughing: I sat
down beside him, poured two
glasses, blood seeping from my
nose, discolouring the wine
as the sun began her descent,
as we embraced and waited
for something else to happen.

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