an evening run

i run in the dark,
in the wake of cold fears,
half-aware of where my next step will be,
to feel the black wet mesh
brush against the warmth of my skin
as i devour it,
to feel my flesh wanton
in sweat - drops of me
penetrating out through a thousand pores,
to see the view
with that tourist's interest, indifference,
the one i had a chat with, sipping tea,
to meet that end of the route,
glance behind,
and see where i was then,
to listen to the grass
crumble - yellowed memories -
beneath my feet,
my body pounding my heart
in that heavy aching rhythm,
while i litter a thousand thoughts
here and there
in that discolored dark;
then i move on to something familiar.