Running Mate

This silence in the morning
the crisp wind unwrapping my skin
sinks comfortably into the trail
as I begin my race with stroll.

Two or three or ten people later, I have lost my swift
only to regain it again
and soon you come stepping into my frame

my running mate.

Your journey to the end of the trail is done
and back again you come to collect me
for a cooldown of workout

to inspire.

I am founded of mind and character
growing new appendages with which I can stride
fingers that match your skin tone
and bones that remain
again.

Here we step in tune to the time of our insistence
our tandem trail of treat and terror
I am parting with the motion of routine
to beg the pardon of my transformation.

I ache daily for the newness of familiar step
but long for the sleep of mind
the encouragement of unhazing my mind’s fog
to reap the benefits.

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