yoga/ balance / run / laces/

Flesh transforms into hot and woozy, seductively narcotic, on the shedding of first arrival body tears into early morning air. Conjuring up vaguest outlines, every passing detail of my shadow on the pavement, tracing the edge of my lip with my tongue, catching a droplet of weeping from my pores.  It is only in the time alone with my sneakers that I find the  balance to work through the complicated and the murky. It is only on my yoga mat that I feel the surrender. It is only in the dampness of my sneakers that thoughts begin to puddle.
Only in the laces that I feel untangled....