Weekly: Run with me


Bedok Run

You don't need to run alone



Take these footfalls with you: till our steps
move brimming with falling sun.
I watch while you stretch the fabric folds
of your muscles into anticipation –
a form, tense –
wearable, sleeveless.
And lazy sunshine, its loose glare,
wraps its last wayward fingers around the flush of your cheeks.

After you, please:
in similar motions our strides burst into pace,
like frames
for slower runners in still life: shrinking, shrinking.
The want for air moves us – a common
desire, breathing pulses glazed with sweat.
But I’m only faster with you around: when you’re
climbing, diminishing –
a blur of your jersey like a flag – you
a bullet off the lines – one that
hits me deep in the crease of my panting soul
till I have you run with me,

where at this hour crickets whistle
for us to finally slow down. Floodlights cast you
luminous: a halo of sweat,
the only thing aglow on the dark track,
as evening overtakes us.


shelter (after training, 2009)


One thought on “Weekly: Run with me

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