Thrown off the beaten path,
I'm slowly surrendering to lull of
insouciance that slithered into my limbs.
Heart palpitates, then settles
dampened by the trickle of rain outside;
time still runs like she does.
Always forward never back:
to do, to be, to say, to sweat, to grind,
to chase,
to chase,
to chase...
To what end?
Until we run out of breath?
Or we can sit, and wait, and ponder...
to what end?
Until we run out of breath!