xxi.
I guess what I enjoyed about running was that
It was companionless: fallow time and fleet feet
Traceless steps through the summer slate dawn-drawn din
Circling the same miles of pathways like a long prayer
Without another without a mistimed echo
Just the circuit of breath and bounding forward breath
xxii.
Each breath a crystal
Captured in pearl spider webs
Body limited
xxiii.
Now I have more in common with those black and white
Men, brawn drawn across billboards, bodies electric
Not that we look alike but we share the pressure
Immediate of adjustment and fantasy
A utopia limited by the present
Participle: mending, amending, unending
xxix.
The iron temple
Is just an occasion for
Terminal repair
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