Entrancement / Pulsate / Run

The earlier I begin the day, the quieter the sound. Reverberations of my own renderings, caught in the patter, as sneakers hit the pavement. Trees lie still, sky asleep, mornings dew resting on an eyelash. 

Pulsating of my heart, my only sound; liquid pours down my back in beads of isolated seclusion.....a river of puddles washes over my sneaker; as my own river of wetness, adds to the drowning. 

A fallen leaf floats away, on a single breath, columns of humidity trace the air. Outpouring from the Gods, tears from distant lost angels, now dampen my silhouette. Lost in the entrancement of it all......my shins feel the burn, as ligaments feel the fire