Running

Thursday, June 12, 2014

rain / sneakers/ run / skin

Feeling the top ridge of chilled air grab hold of the inside of my exposed thigh, the oil from my skin running like an ocean of light down my leg. Shadow covers day, as high clouds foretell of punishing rain. My arms and shoulders shake with a shudder, a moment of construction as muscles tighten and spread throughout my body.

Breath unzips from the center of my chest, as the pulsating of my heart presses outward from my innermost flesh. Sacrificing thought to adrenaline rushed stupor, as the intoxication of the drug creeps into my sneaker.

  Pulse begins to smolder dangerously close to erupting my pores with mislaid possessions. The content of which, runs down my careen in a dubious array of pearls circling my midsection. Sliding away into the comfort of my brushed flesh, a climactic surge muscles in a frisson of indignation, as I lie submerged beneath my layers. Dew from my body now drenching.....or, is it the rain?

Saturday, July 12, 2014

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....

sweat / run / racehorse / inversion

I have just finished my run and I am sweaty, but all I can think about today (well not all.... but a large amount of my thoughts) is that it was so good to feel the burn, to sweat like a racehorse, and to let myself feel 100% free. I now feel compelled to throw myself into an upside down inversion, and breathe, just breathe................................

Saturday, June 7, 2014

sneaker / talk / wisdom

My suspicion is that the birds that flocked above me this morning during my early morning run were sent to pull me from myself, pull me from deep self - absorption. They grabbed hold of one of my threads in their beak and pulled me along, as they inched me toward complete stillness. 

As I grab for my journal book, my mind unravels a thousand thoughts. I think on paper, the place I sort out my life. The place I connect all those tiny prism dots, the place with many beginnings, and few endings, the place that often allows me not to speak in tongue at all.

Today is my one year wedding anniversary, and as our one year gift to each other, we will be opening up a tea boutique in July. It is our first adventure together as husband and wife, so excited.The signing of the new lease on the space has just been duly noted and signed in black ink!

Tuesday, June 3, 2014

run / sneakers / beginnings

Ran so fast this morning, like I was saving myself from a live grenade, running to the banks of the river, just to skip rocks across the water. A few rocks later, I turned, and ran back up the hill, and home. Waiting for me, scattered all over the floor of my office, were the pages of "Life Changes". When everyone thinks you are dead, is that when you start life all over again, is that when you begin to navigate the territory again between your heart and your head ? If it indeed is, then that is the spot where I am at today. That is the spot I will write from today. I am standing at the edge of an end, all new beginnings start with an end. An end of something, of somewhere, of somehow, of someone, truth is, things are not always as they seem, or always the way you want them to be, and that is when an end turns to a beginning, finally bringing me back to the conclusion that ends are more often than not, good things. Sometimes I believe being at the end of everything may just be the freshest new beginning, at least, for me a new beginning is always a closure of something else. Pretty amazing when everything you thought you knew and understood now suddenly defies everything with a much needed amount of certainty. It is the same sensation felt when your world is turned upside down, and you flick on the light switch, just to be able to see, to turn it all right side up again. That is the point I am at today, the "life changes" point, the flicking on of the light switch point (Aha moments are often so much more difficult to see in the dark, one day I will finally get to that realization, maybe next time, way before the moments begin to haunt at my sneakers, and my feet cry out for blistering mercy...running is good thing, beets the ja - be - jeezes out of many of the other options one might choose to conquer his or her life )

Tuesday, May 27, 2014

sweat / hypnotic/ sneakers / running

  Hypnotic sight of the ground disappearing beneath my feet, as the hurried sensation of the world’s humming enters the chamber of my heart. Hugging the air just a bit pretentiously as my flesh is conscripted into the flimsiest notion of a steamy shower, in romanticized illusion of my sweat. Lips dry, stubbornly passive in response to the outpouring of my pores in the humid spring air spilling out in waves down my cheek. Tendril of my own scent catches me off guard.  A hint of taunting from the trees motivates my sneakers in the moment, leaving a shadow of leaf tattoos imprinted on my flesh. A drip nestles in the gully between my breasts, as the sheer glistening of sweat takes refuge.

Saturday, May 24, 2014

euphoria / flesh /medicinal cleansing / sneakers

Sweat , a sort of medicinal cleansing, a red antiseptic poured over wounds. The morning light is shady. Humidity and desire an inside -  out tangle on my flesh. I swallow dry, as my pores drip. I know to keep moving, if I stop, I'll wake from all this euphoria. The drone of air dissolves in the gentle splashing of water that cascades down my flesh. My sophisticated drip by drip irrigation system efficiently delivering water to all of my roots, as the leftover spills from my pores. My feet meander the path, as sullen dark clouds burst into sun formation off in the distance.

Thursday, May 22, 2014

upper lip / strength / sneakers / running

My ex - husband is far worse for my health than high fructose corn syrup could ever be. I concluded this, this past Sunday while at Columbia University attending my daughter's (the same daughter that is also his daughter) graduation from her Master's Program. The words "ARROGANT ASSHOLE" do not even give him justice, sweat beading on my forehead and upper lip as I peered the grumbling in his eyes, and the Marlboro haze filtering from his mouth. When we look back over our lives, and OURpast mistakes, hard to believe that we all were once so stupid and naive as to expect (and further insist) that life would be kind to us.

There is not a moment in time that I question why I left this man, or that if I had to do it all over again, I would leave him sooner and with a quickened stride, not a meandering lacking confidence stride, saying I'm sorry I really tried all the way out the door.........some how weeping, expecting some different ending version of the fairy tale. No, it sucked, and it sucked big-time...there is just no getting around the muckiness of the situation.

There is just no nice way, or good housekeeping version, to state it otherwise. Meeting up at events and dealing with your nasty ex - husband, who has a chip the size of Mount Everest still on his shoulder, is, well, not very pleasant a way to spend a Sunday afternoon...and this is why I have run countless miles this past week, running away from the place he crushes inside of me, every time he is close enough...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 gracing the space between my hipbones, as the tiniest veil of vines drips down my leg. Sweat draping from my brow, precipitous drop of despair, feeling the strain in the deepest of places..

Saturday, May 17, 2014

laces / sneakers / obsession

In a language I did not yet know how to speak,

                                     In bitter frost,

 Until my tears ached from my pores,

                    Until the ocean refused to stop kissing the shoreline,

 In wisdom of silence,

                    And loudness of concrete,

 In passion on the verge of an obsession,

                         In thinking out, then placing down,

 Every thought before my temple of self, 

                        My jigsaw puzzle pieces of my life,

 I stood and watched,

                       As your hand waved goodbye.

 As the innocence turned to tragedy,

                       And the drama of the production became unpredictable,

 As I lent you my soft corners,

                       And you sharpened them to hardened edges,

I kept seeing,

                       Your hand wave goodbye

I kept lacing up my sneakers,

Believing the miles would foregive the pain of you

Holding on to solitude in blissful surrender

With eyes unfiltered, how could you ever expect me to just forget?

The teeth of your words chewed through my ribcage, the trembling trench of my hands, as I, once again, laced up my sneakers, in order to forget....adrenaline coursing through my veins, always my drug of choice, to mitigate the memories, and the pain.......

Tuesday May 13, 2013
bones / torment / moments

Somewhere in some unsuspecting crevice of my bones the torment of the night does still matter, the defining moment when morning awaits, and once again, I learn how to breathe. A brief flow of sound from which releases an occasional drop of sweat. Forever hitched to an elsewhere, another time and place, each glide of my sneaker goes on forever, as flesh opens upon the dawn. Branches in angriest of twisted torment encroach my path. No reason to stay, no reason to go further, flesh feeling so unfettered, flirting recklessly as sneakers glide and dance along the sheen of the pavement. Feeling the top ridge of humid air grab hold of the inside of my exposed thigh, the oil from my skin running like an ocean of light down my leg, and there it remains... Another five miles, notched into my waistband.......

Saturday May 10, 2014
sounds / wings / faintness

Lushness of early morning silence echoes from each rose petal.  Succulent beads of dew hang suspended above each thorn. The scent of heat so thick it latches onto my breath, as my sneakers peer out from the black frame of pavement.  Heat, as an antique paisley shawl, wrapped within me so tight, it cuts off my breath. I slide my sneakers along the pavement, and speak in whispers to the birds, as they drink on the nectar of honeybees ....taking a larger breath, falling one step backward into the camouflage of the foliage........

Thursday May 8, 2014

run / seclusion / serenity

What was once bold is now subtle, what was energetic now calm, seemingly completely new, pushed in different directions, amid muted shades of pewter, silver and gray, sky is transformed, exotic thoughts strewn upon a gray linen wall. Breathing in capsules of borrowed time, my weathered silhouette graced by my  loosely allusive sneakers. My legs contract, bringing my body to a standing. Feeling the steady caffeine - driven thump of my heart. 

Sometimes wanting to do everything. Run beyond every hill. Investigate every bend in the road. Other times, simply wanting to slow down, relax, allowing the sun to pamper my spirit. Enjoying the massage of sun beams on my shoulders. From the inside of my reflection pool, to the edge of the world, I unwind in naked seclusion.....thus, I run!

Tuesday, May 6, 2014

Ardent hope

lifting my chin amd reminding myself, that hurts come and go.......and so......I run

an ache in my heart at times.....and so....I run

life’s moody adventure....and so....I run

I almost died, and I still remember it....and so....I run

I believe in the flow of  positive energy....and so....I run

If you said it, I didn't hear.

If I didn't hear, I'm sorry.
When you scared me, I found courage!

The air hits me like a memory flood this morning.  Warm and sultry on my skin, rich and earthy in my nose. Sneakers bee - bopping along the pavement, sweat liberally dripping on the black tar of the road.

*My scalp scar runs 14 inches in a rabbit ear shape around my head, remnants of repair of hundreds of stitches and two years of reconstructive surgeries. I have neuropathy forever. If you think you can't, open your mind to something that seems impossible...you never know where you can fly.

Thursday, March 27, 2014

Thursday Sneakers

The feelings and nuances so real, so tangible this morning. Life in full force, abundant with self knowledge. I revel in how fortunate I have been to wake up to sensation, to know what the texture of my own skin can excite within me, to find the drip of sweat splashing from my sneakers to my yoga mat, a reason to push forward, to look to the sky as I run and realize the earth holds me and propels me to move.

Moments in life where everything is alive and I am slow and conscious to see, taste, feel, breathe, smell, and completely fall intoxicated by the potion of pure experience.Smearing a soothing almond oil lotion across my cheeks, sunshine warming me and tinting my olive skin brown.......lip balm across my lips...a breeze....my skin, prickles with magic...my eyes sting from tears unshed and slumber not had...emotions and sweat, now blend as one inside the laces of my sneakers...

Saturday, March 22, 2014

All Roads Lead Somewhere

How does hell become so close to our bones, that heaven is not seen in our eyes? How do we move past what harms us, in order to hold the things we never want to forget? 

Sometimes the heart belongs in a body bag, and other times, I believe the sandbags are meant to save us.

 This morning I went for an early run, and I tasted the wind as it blew, I heard something in the silence, no longer scared by it, or in being alone with it, I held onto the stillness in me. The sculpture of me was always there, it was the chiseling away of the rock to get to the sculpture that took time to reveal it, as my life is now, a completed sentence. My sneakers have holes worn right through their mesh from my toes pushing uphill with much determination. I arced, I spun, I simmered in the breeze as it took hold of the silvery blonde in my hairline. 

I think the biggest decision of my life, was finally allowing me to be me. What an incredibly awesome idea that was of mine, which only took me half a lifetime to come up with. Wow, talk about a work in progress!

As all roads eventually lead to somewhere, I keep putting one foot of front of the other, very determined to finally arrive, at the place I was always meant to be.

Thursday, March 20, 2014

Definition of Hope

From all the chaos I was reborn. 

When the blood of a woman's heart is something she no longer drowns herself in. When you realize every star in the galaxy is just for you. When you no longer wear self-doubt and loathing as your life vest. When life happens, life changes, and you become yourself. The bittersweet, the bitter blue, where narrative is gone and all the chaos you finally accept, and then, finally, break through. Well then, my friends, that is the definition of hope. The definition of hope becomes a powerful thing; when your heart beats so fast you just know you have to run after it. You just know finally, without any further hesitation, what you need to do. What you should have done, all along.

The heart was no place to leave the blades piercing my soul, slicing my flesh, as the resounding sound of madness echoed throughout my head. His footsteps hardened in the distance. His betrayal left and then carried away with the tide. I collected every sharp knife in the house, and threw each, individually, into the sea. One knife, one blade, one life, as seaweed attached itself to my lost hope, and the turning, of yet, another page. The salt from the ocean lay like bitter tonic on my tongue, as sea salt spray washed over my face in acknowledgment of all of my falling tears.

I run to taste my sweat, practice yoga to harness my breath, write so words stay still and silent, these are the benefits to being on the front lines of soul searching, as each pivotal point in my life finds its way to a tag line for a journal, an essay, a story.

Small steps have seemed to legitimize my journey, to my destination at whatever crossroads I now stand at. I have approached people I might never have approached before, some remain, and some I've since let go of. There is a sweet awkwardness to the moment you find a parachute for your feelings, and then you take the leap.

My next life, well, I am hoping it will be riddled with romance, conjecture, and a life fitting of a princess. I still want to believe in fairytales...

Running in Rain

 A storm surges beneath my skin, as I imagine  crushed red pepper allowing its heat to inflate my flesh. Chilean red pierces my pores; beneath the stone slate of morning sky, my muscles twitch at the sound of my own pulse thundering in my ears. Honey amber recognition of sun, for today, is forgotten, as dank unused places escort my sneakers. 

The rain, acts as my cloak, coverage of my nakedness, winding its way around my body in lovers temperance. Silk white gowns from clouds drape down dressing me in conservatory. The music of my breath is the only rhythm that plays in the background, as sweat drips down in a romantic dance across my breastbone.

My demure, is hidden behind a heavy fortified gate, as my bareness needs no justification. Skin flawless, as each step of my sneaker brings me closer to life's rawness. My body submissive under a cold adhesive netting of sweat, as breasts and shoulders stand at attention.

Subdued....Tuesday, March 11, 2014

Heated Flesh

If nothing matters, why does everything seem to matter today? The birds, the trees, the way my sweat hangs in suspension on my arms? The clouds, the sun, the heat of my flesh? The empty darkness of the pavement, the spiral staircase leading to the sky? The pulse of my heart as it pounds through my chest? My sneakers, alone in the solitude of early morning darkness.....

Saturday, March 8, 2014

Saturday Run

Soft spot between my hips and navel releases on each step. Deer look on in awkwardness at my forbidden. The river of my blood coarsely pumping through each minuscule vein, sneakers delivering that all-inclusive potion sending endorphins of self derived opiate to my brain. Sprinkles of my salt languish on my tongue, as I lick the dew from my shoulder blade. Muffled silence of the trees slides along the edge of my jaw, framed in beads of perspiration. Walls of my lungs bend outward to contain my breath, settling to a steady sway from a quiet breeze blowing against my upper lip. My sneakers skip a beat..my heart pumps in duration of my last and final mile, before I, and sneakers, come to rest in the silence with our secrets

Thursday, March 6, 2014

Indecision

My sneakers mirror the split of my own indecision, turn right, or sway left? Birds talk about me in the third person, as I confuse them as the resident bohemian/ intellectual today in the woods. My run becomes my illicit pleasure smuggled in under the opening of the sun. A late winter breeze arrives on my nose, setting a tear in motion at the corner of my eye. Underneath my running jacket an arc of crisp air fringes on the soldiers now piercing through my sports bra. My architectural columns today, one of total erection, as I stand parallel to the groping of the trees. Cold air on my flesh, hot sweat of my breath, both deliver a river of collision traveling down around my navel. I could run an extra mile this morning, or just run on for, forever.....both are debatable...

Tuesday, March 4, 2014

Unfurling My Run

Something in the early morning air attracts me in its seeming simplicity, as breath in hypnotic lecture tangles around my face, thick clouds threaten in the shadows. With embellished delight I swallow hard, igniting my tongue against the tender of my cheek. Pace unfurls ahead of the storm. Body dew drips soundlessly along the arc of pavement. Running is a singular motion, a silent dialogue, a presence of air and thought, and nothing more to cling to. It is a meditation, a confession, a glimpse of calmness that runs through my breath and travels the length of my thigh and shin, until it lays dormant on my laces.

Saturday, February 22, 2014

Running in Poetry

So, you say you are a runner. Well, true runners, always run.....through every season. 
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 a tide of pleasure....... sunrise is in the distance..... 

Tuesday, February 18, 2014

Tuesday Run

Small puddles of sweat spread out from each sneaker, as they hug themselves against the cold of the pavement. My flesh now naked, my soul utterly defenseless, in an almost skeptical sideways glance of pretentious thought, dripping wet, a river surrenders to the contours of my body. Magnetic force pulls me toward an embrace with the  frigid chill of morning. Holding my breath, inhaling deeply, in an emphatic need to save myself. Lungs swell, and then deflate, in an abandoning need to let the cold fall away from inside of me. My sneakers pick up in pace..

Saturday, February 15, 2014

Sneakers in Seductive Lure

My pace out steps the Lords of Winter, in a sultry seductive lure. I toss back at the wind, flutters thrown from my flesh, momentary stillness, thus begins the water pouring in torrents from my pores. So quickened is the eruption, it almost leaves me bleeding, breathless, and positively raw. Countable beads of sweat scattered on my breasts, drifting into formless intentions. Prying secrets from my sneakers...

Running in Ice

Branches in angriest of torment encroach my path. No reason to stay, no reason to go further, flesh feeling so unfettered, flirting recklessly with death as sneakers glide and dance on the sheen of the iced over dirt road. 

Only a memory of darkness, as dawn sprouts the passage of yesterday's storm. Enveloped in the day-to-day rapture of my now cold flesh pressing through fabric, I head southerly, in the direction of my breasts. Running in distorts around the ice filled patches. Looking at the angriest torment of branches in their detachment from the normalcy of calm, as the weight of the snow and ice have them groping in a constant down.

 Somewhere in some unsuspecting crevice of my bones the torment of the night does still matter, (each winter's storm defining something) the defining moments when morning awaits, and once again, I learn how to breathe. Groping at the audible pitches of birds clinging to icy branches. A brief flow of sound from which releases an occasional drop of my cold sweat. 

Forever hitched to an elsewhere, another time and place, (I envision the beach and clear view water) each glide of my sneaker goes on forever, as flesh opens on the dawn, and I note, this winter, soon, someday soon, will be over.

February 9, 2014

Sunday Morning Run ( moments of solace)

Stepping off the curb, running round the bend, toes touching, heels suspended. Dreams so laden with sweat that I could easily drown in my own pool of intoxication. I slide my sneakers along the pavement, and speak in whispers to the birds. My sculpture tilts back in a red robin's playing of a saxophone, breath expanded so fully that my walls are bending outward to contain it. 

A voice tells me, to take a breath, release a breath, and then to hold in the stillness. In the opening between breaths the world opens wider, clear as glass, as the wind blows tracing the lines of my face. A pair of birds in full animation, escort me to the river's edge. I am inside and out, and outside and in, all in the same breath. 

In reckless abandon my sneakers launch onto an isolated path, enclosed in a frosty morning cold  that settles like rain upon my exposed flesh. I think I hear the air move, steadily fluttering across my back.  

My sneakers mirror the split of my own indecision, turn right, or sway left? In the science of survival it is the acceptance of the reality of life, that pricks at my sneakers like the tip of a razor pressing against my skin. Another morning run.......traces of footprints left in the snow.........

 An Alien In The Fog

Expressionless, I let the feel of my pulse keep sound with my feet, inching along, somewhere berween past, present and future, in midlife limbo. Heroine or heiress, not sure which to have my sneakers run after this morning. Leaving the shelter of my bed, a space so hollowed to the contours of my body that leaving it feels cold, cruel, darkened and uncomfortable. I touch my toes to the floorboards, inhaling as deeply as I can, breathing in the last of nighttime pleasure, as sunlight illuminates my still not so morning eyes. 

 I lace them up, as spasms of longing have me opening my large front door, and the froth of cold air detains me a bit in the morning silence. The thought and feel of being touched encroaches as I am once again drawn into my morning running madness. Air escapes from my mouth in a slow leak, as the pleasure of running becomes my matter of impassioned argument, as moments leak away with each varied footstep of my sneakers. 

The clouds having an opinion all of their own snake along in shadowy shapes just past the cliff to the horizon. Staying within the perfected sound of silence, my thumping heart, air touches in lust as a cobweb across my flesh. A whispered breeze straddles across my cheek. Sensation becomes illicit as I run past curtainless windows, the world sleeps and I am once again, first, in the eyes of the dawn.

 Faintness falling easily off of my lips, wondering if sweat left in droplets on the pavement aren't just a bit of bleed from old wounds, a sacrificial offering as legs lean forward against their own sea of ritual awakening. Convincing self of something so much more, as secrets hold tight within my hips. My sneakers and I, aliens in the fog, pondering the wonders and tempest of life.

Arcs of Cold Air

I feel a heated cold chill, as the sound of the leaves echo emptily into morning air. The unassailable ability of the air to press thought through my flesh. I smell the sweat on my clothes, in a sense of drama my mind begins to play out the part of an ill - fated lover, as thorns of sweat turn my flesh to gold. In utter abruptiveness, a squirrel scampers over my footing, over my sneaker, knocking me from fantasy. 

Feeling the impending injection of chill run down my spine, coolness inscribes across my forehead. Frost sits on my nose; dribbling whatever resources it conspires onto the pavement. Goose bumps line up as soldiers tapping on my flesh, as my flesh responds in a tortured twist. the coldness begging for a reaction to its unnerving beneath my outerfolds, as heart is sheltered in a wrap of blood thirst pageantry. An arc of cold air invades my face, it's fingers brushing up against my cheek. Feeling the top ridge of chilled air grab hold of the exposed skin right above my hipbone, the oil from my skin running like an ocean of light down my leg. 

A graceful thin line of water dew spurts the exit of a syringe, exact and perfect, running trails down my breasts, carries over my ribcage, careening in speed dwon the hapless map of my thighs. Looking at my sneakers, an exact spot of concentration, arriving thought someplace entirely different.....

Sometimes A Guilty PleasureA  guilty pleasure remains motionless on my flesh. Strengthening my conviction of the importance of my ritual runs. Left in peace, I am running in concealment of my nudeness. Light flecks of chill enter my spine in a parade of crimson through my bloodstream. Skin sheds in resounding sound. Breath in hypnotic lecture tangles around my face, thick clouds threaten in the shadows. Small puddles of sweat spread out from each sneaker, as they hug themselves against the cold of the pavement. My flesh naked, my soul utterly defensless, in an almost skeptical sideways glance of pretentious thought, dripping in a cold wet, a river surrenders to the contours of my body. A Magnetic force pulls me even closer toward embrace with the chill of morning air this morning.

My Random God

A version of God I was in so much need of, ran with me this morning on my early morning ritual run. I am increasingly convinced of the undo randomness of this my life, your life, everyone's life. His sneakers, her sneakers, whomever wears that set of sneakers, guided me with an eternal faith I hadn't woken up with today. Let us get one thing perfectly straight, I do not believe for one moment that there is anyone out there, up there, to get me through the chaotic randomness of one day to the next. 

I accept that sole responsibility begrudgingly; at best, taking on a needed diversion (such as a long run in the cold) to lay out all of the opposing questions, thus hoping in the end that they all suit up to a grander set of answers. I often challenge my sneakers to find something I am searching for, as streams of sweat methodically emerge from the internal organs of my own body. I do not need to understand the meaning of life any deeper than this, to know, that, well, on some days, the searching and finding does take a bit longer. 

The challenge of, and then the hopefulness of, all of that, I leave up to my sneakers, and the invisible (call it faith if you will) set of sneakers which chooses to run beside me on any given day. I think, acceptance, becomes a stunning miracle all of us, at one point or another, do the devil's dance with. 

   Storm Is Brewing

The bite of a very cold wind strips across my face this morning, burning an imprint of fire and ice across my forehead.  It feels like snow and ice is a brewing.

On The Edge Of Raw

The ruddy glow of my thighs, the warm vapor stream of breath in front of my chilled lips, profoundly sure I should leave cold New York, for perhaps, the warm romance of Paris. Pathetically realizing however, that I cannot even utter a word of French, I trudge along. Splattering of cold chilling my flesh in a hedonistic affair down to my bones, liberated from the cold, drunk on adrenaline.

 Finding it difficult to reconstruct the origin of thought that running in the cold air is good for me. Flesh transforms into hot and woozy, seductively narcotic, on the shedding of first arrival body tears into 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. 

Outwardly humbling is the frost now layered on my legs. Sequined soldiers stand erect on all exposed flesh, as my internal heat collides with molecules of icicle air. Stopping mid-breath, I crack my flesh, and expose a bareness I am not yet prepared for. Running on the edge of raw this morning in the coldest of air!

 Running Bare

Nakedly bare, shedding skin by the roadside. Feeling the heat of my animal rise to the occasion, on a cusp of newly chilled dawn air. How unfortunate for those of you still cursed under the slumber of night.  

Harboring in the shadows, gray hand of sky reaching, infusing a sense of grace as I witness the cold unfolding of another January dawn. Inescapably theatrical, in precarious dance, sweat pulls my emotions into a melting on ice of the ground. Soaking up sunshine as if it is something salaciously lewd I cling to.

Small puddles of sweat spread out from each sneaker, as they hug themselves against the cold of the pavement. My flesh now naked, my soul utterly defenseless, in an almost skeptical sideways glance of pretentious thought, dripping wet, a river surrenders to the contours of my body. Magnetic force pulls me toward an embrace with the chill of silent morning air. Another morning run well executed!