She never really settled down, this restless urge moving
inside of her, needing to be expunged, a change of consciousness, like a truck
driver shifting gears, desperate to get it all to mesh, so as to plunge ahead, we
engaged for more than tea at noon, or the motion we need take, sweet in the
afternoon, that leap in, we tell ourselves this is something we ought not to do,
to cling to the high road, as our wheels slip and slide, and push us into the
abyss we cannot survive, we do it then, do it again, and still again,
possessing each other in a way we may never do again, our lives at that moment,
centered on the rhythm of movement which brings such temporary Joy, day and night
and then day again, a memory we live with, forever
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