running with my feet dragging
on the way back i caught myself just in time. my foot caught on the cement throne and tempted me to stay for a moment, i could leave my shoe and continue on. to walk with the buried intention of retracing is a gift, but calculation leaves each fragmented path to see only one sole and eventually a soul imprinted and fossilized til the undated early morning construction. the vines that interweave along the house’s rented fence attempt to feign escape, but tomorrow, when the cage falls, there they’ll likely remain. maybe when it’s a choice it feels deadlier. at least for a moment - the moment before you catch yourself. just as captive as those immortalized veins fallen to point our way home. they whisper quietly in a busy room and I walk along, a mind busy on a quiet street, and a lovely thing to be both. to run down the street with dragging feet and not letting a moment pass unnoticed,, but next block is approaching quickly, and the rented fence will fall, and all that will be left to do is grow outward, to grow intricately wide and to frame each fractured fossil along the way and make it a home. I will not be the one who walks across the street, only glancing back to hear other’s laughter and never able to see that their laces, once double knotted and tucked in, had disappeared into itself the day prior.
