I think I like this one better.

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Aches in the shoulders, left and right, and raw red hands
Practise the movements ’til battle is natural; awkward
with girls, flinching and weak, terrifying
with boys who don’t know their own strength.

“Blades up, look alive!”—push away
from the wall that supports, raise
the barbs to face a clumsy opponent
Pay attention or you’ll hit me!

Easier as the agressor, dashing on stage—
The male lead in a dress, saving the King
and pushing him offstage to flirt
like the director’s son poking her best friend

Last chance to perfect it, her personal
fight with the adversary who didn’t show.
The sun hot on the grass and her jeans and her T-shirt
as instead she runs throug hit with him—

Aches reawakened, blisters remembered
Practise the movements she does in her sleep; awkward
because he is bigger, and stronger, and she—
No time to be worried. The war has begun.