Running in Rain

Falling into the run, letting myself perilously wash away. Rain touches lightly at the back of my neck, chancing that it might find me aloft in a dream. Waiting until my breathing deepens, then grows quiet, tatting of my own flesh, a flavor of heightened anticipation. My thin substance weaves in and out beneath the trees. There is no one here to give me caution, my blood pulsating in ostentation.

Feeling the mud on my shin, letting it imprint on my flesh, warm and demanding as its murkiness fills my senses. Stone lined garden spaces grace the space between my hipbones, as the tiniest veil of morning dew drips down my leg. Sweat drapes from my brow, precipitous drops of despair, feeling the strain in the deepest of places this morning.

My feet are poetry on the ground, as the fragrance of the rain hangs at the tip of each nostril. Cliff hanging, tormented beads of sweat cling on the outset of every one of my pores. Hurdling over a puddle, as my breasts keep pace with every step of my footing. Feeling the roundness of the beads escaping down the curvature of my body, my sneakers take up the drowning. My breath's vapor intrudes on the shroud of fog........sneakers, once again, delivering that all-inclusive potion of serene tonic that I crave...................