Emphatic trees reach down their limbs
in a lover's torment towards me. Creeping through the darkness at my peril,
sweat drips, as a wall of paint licks my shoulder blade. Plum velvet of my
circulatory fades to folds of beige on my flesh. In a dark unspoken urge I
think a deer throws me a kiss, in majestic complacency, as the intimacy lends
forebode of a past lover. Sneakers skim and float on this sea of pleasure.
I am naked, you are not, and that is why, I run. I will continue
to run in all of my nudity, until, you catch me. Countable beads of sweat now
scattered on my breasts, drifting into formless intentions, unspoken
sensations. Merging my sneakers
into my bareness, drifting further along, without my loincloth...meditation is a wonderful tonic....
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