The Integrity of an Elephant

the integrity of an elephant

Their words hovered and quivered

like primordial symbols rupturing the air

Hesitating; wavering; not succumbing to gravity

or decorum.

 

There were no elephants in the room:

they ran and hid,

splitting the wood with their thunderous hooves

(amateurs in the field of awkward-moment etiquette)

pins undropped; suspended from the ceiling.

 

But the one and the other thrived on verbal tennis:

one with cluttered mind and stunted growth of empathy,

the other a hyper-real-emotional-landslide

prone to fits of ambition and manipulation;

each with an invisible aura encircling their bodies:

a thick, viscous membrane of defence mechanics.

 

Arrows from one set of vocal entry-points

aiming sniper-bullets at the other:

target assessed for weak spots; a point of entry.

The paths of the arrows grew white hot:

maximum pressure exerted to no avail.

 

The pins and the elephant creaked their eyes sporadically

like children viewing ghosts and demons on TV.

Despite the enthusiasm of vitriol, both snipers retreated:

deflated as mortar balloons, due to the

impenetrable, cerebral fortitude of the other.