Running - 2
     

    We run down a dusty gravel road
    Sweating, breathless, panting
    July wet heat wraps our bodies
    In still, silent air.

    We walk down cool shaded road
    Talking, breathing, touching,
    Fingertips seek and touch
    In tentative desire

    Rolling fast, nearly silent,
    Coasting up and down country hills
    Wind kisses our faces
    With hard passion

    We sit, stock still,
    Listening as
    Experts send music
    Deep inside us

    In all these places we are breathing,
    Close to one another
    And thus inhale
    Each the other's breath.

    Alone we hold each other
    Moving together, so close,
    Mouth to mouth
    Inhaling each the other.

    7/27/98

    Daniel Friedman's Poetry & Short Stories
    Daniel Friedman's bio

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