A Sunday Run
My body rolled over, pulled close, and whispered
In my ear,
“Do you still love me?”
Banal platitudes hovering near, I blink
At the flat light in front of me.
Early enough for the world to be ours
Rhythm inconsistent in the greying
Mist, my body fighting against the
Cellophane crinkle of some scientific
Jacket, I hear the gentle raillery.
“Hey, pilot, haven’t you always wanted to fly?”
“Then let’s fly!”
And ripping modernity away
And into some poor bush,
Through the graffiti cave
Up into the cotton candy mist
Wrapped sugar sweet over the
Decaying bridge and out along
That blackened snake, sacrificed
Long ago for our health.
And we flew. Not for competition but
With holy fire, we flew.
And we remembered how to love ourselves.
Evaporating into the smoky morning.
And we sang in harmony. Proud and in love