No More

by Jora Sveinsdottir, Kingdom of An Tir

Originally published in On Target, Volume 1, Issue 1, Winter 1996.

The tension is gone when I release.
My arrow has found the or.
I stare blankly in disbelief.
The cross-hairs are no more.

We head towards the target, I try not to strut.
My heart skips with a bit of horror.
It takes all I have not to fall on my "butt,"
The cross-hairs are no more.

I shake it off, I won't take the blame.
And I hope no one sees the score.
But the gentle beside me proceeds to exclaim
"The cross-hairs are no more."

I take drink orders like a good little slave
It seems I must go to the store.
But if I had testosterone, you'd all ride the wave.
The cross-hairs are no more.





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