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The Night Runner

With HER on his mind, He runs out the not... He runs out the not knowing... He runs out the not knowing whether He loves her... And the good sweat Is like Blood in his veins Is like Turning the stars inside out, Making their cool heat Shine down, and through, and out of Him... As though he were transparent, And, Lungs stoking, Breath smoking, His eight counts in And His eight counts out, Making the whole night half of the world Breathe to his pulse... He squeezes the stars in his Pumping fists, The prints of his feet leave Shining marks, He fades around a corner, Turns into the Darkness, And is seen... No more... 1987

Copyright © | Year Posted 2018




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