Runners, and lovers.


She walked from her home

to the beach

this girl who crossed my path ~

Moments from her bed

it seemed

wearing something soft ~

She didn’t see me bearing down

nor did she see me heading off ~

And her perfume drifted behind her

in a warm, and private air ~

Such a sensual

and personal waft

left, trailing her

way back there


Runners though

do not hesitate

they plough through sensation

and temptation,

and muscle away

any mis-timed intrusion

of fate.