Right now?
where to start;
my toes are regretting their decision
to put up with the snow
and my lungs have never felt
bigger
and my limbs are
screaming obscenities,
the kind we keep to ourselves
until the worst of traffic. and my
heels are trying to forgive/forget
because they think I’ve
been running for days
(though now I can’t remember
when I started--if
I ever stopped)
and my lips. oh my lips.
there is no telling. no telling
of how they could feel right now
but the ‘could’ is making me crazy.
the sum of one weekend’s beatings
ignites whispers in my head:
desire or
compassion?
I think I need to sleep.
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