I Know the Opposing Page

I know the opposing page—
a mirrored image,
Rorschach inkblot,
nothing knocking me down
but my own ideas of being beaten.

I’ve seen my demise by my own hand
bound across the center stitch:

man versus self,
his own worst enemy,
both winning and losing,
white knight is black knight,
wielding this double-sided lance,
horse’s ass hoisted by his own petard.

We are falling forever over
frozen inches from the ground—

never hitting bottom,
never picking ourselves up.