Argument With Someone With a Conscience

She named herself killer without her usual aplomb,
I could only look up and smile;
Imagine, I said,
If the world were like you,
Much less blood,
And maybe a sense of rights or two.

Unnatural, disgusting and evil and wrong,
Humiliation pate,
Though better than duck,
Still kills you the quicker, I say;
I reminded her—gently!
Of memory, beauty, and fate.

And argument, after all, is healthy.
Stirring up sand, the daughter of rock,
And mother of stone, at the end we are
Kissed by the tempestuous ocean.
Why then, not celebrate
With a dash of impetuous emotion?

I am not going away, I said;
The chorus of worthwhile emotion;
I am not looking up,
She could not deny it was true;
I am not looking down,
I am looking straight at you.

But will you still love me? she asked,
Morose behind her breath,
Revolving indefinitely amongst a mist of misconceptions
As fish dot the skies and swim off,
Contented,
To their vast aquariums held aloft.

But who will keep company of betrayers except
Betrayers themselves in a bind?
Shards of infinity in a crisscrossing pattern,
With welcomers singing a song with bats;
Yes, I said,
And I left it at that.