the sporadic tension looming on shoulders
the creeping panic which eats minds alive
quick breaths, uneasy stances
the knotted fists held to mouths
afraid of the next vowels to slip
plunge into midnight terrains
at how waxy orange lamps
pool on blank pavements
and ridden sneakers scrape
and drag with all the fright  
the spilling of chilly freeze
bites in pockets of air
and crevasses deep inside the chest
the flesh of bones travel
where the feet may go,
having a mind of its own
the dew on each swaying grass blade
glinting like jewels on your feet
sitting on the cold concrete
here I wait for the shout of your presence
as you follow the tug of your dampened vigor
watching your shadow slide across
the blank howls of nightly ground
and as the lines tangle in your hair
and **** up that inner flare
remember, its okay to let go
and not to put everything within a timetable
there doesn't have to be a label
of our very own existence