bite marks and bullets

bite marks and bullets;
teeth grinding;
fists clenched....

stand your ground!
stand your ground!

my brain spirals into visions of
smoke and lines of soldiers,
as innocent as civil war reenactors.

in front of me, you are waiting:
hip jutted, feet planted.

i pushed first;
you shove back;
now
how far will i take retaliation?