Run is agile,
moves earth,
strides capture the length of land
follow expansive pace;
spirals into pools of crystal
transparent hair string shape together,
into light mass
granules of fluid enter extremities,
she screams rapid with mist,
and fuses with debris
woodland poking at her curves,
roots bury their struggle in her liquid constitution,
ground revels in her violence
she thrashes with indifference
yet, her heart pumps shape into landscape
without asking
young foraging water
wants to pound,
fluid body make new paths,
an aggressive maker
is the inconsiderate elegance of moving,
and she
speaks sounds when streaming
low lying river
thrust
enmesh with gapping rock-bed,
push water muscle
foam and cuss
persist like mad living
vein a passage
water chiseling images of time,
be an ongoing picture
before you blend with ocean
and no longer sit in mind,
Run is a river,
liberating herself in action,
calm are her finger tips
as
she gestures life in,
films of fluid
glaze pebbles,
and
invite a young girl
to look down into aquatic stone
the girl’s body is flat with youth,
dressed neatly,
all she’s ever known is city.
Her body aches
from what seems like Run’s journey
her name is River,
named by her unusual parents
she left home
searching name
her title left dead,
hanging on school paper arbitrarily,
teachers repeatedly call “River” forward
and in their repetition she asked,
“what is my name, what is my title?”
River’s eyes fill with mosaic colour,
from the aquatic stone.
Run has ran her distance;
River met her at her stillness
Run’s water power exerted
and,
youth that lies beyond water
feels Run’s quiet hurting,
both bodies pain in desire,
Run & River hear each other’s call,
River peels off socks
tip toes into shallow water,
curls feet to pebbles
absorbs jagged experience,
palms squeeze erosion,
and she is able to feel Run’s journey.
River strums at her reflection,
and submerges in shallow water.
