It starts with a heartbeat.
Tha-thump tha-thump tha-thump
This is the pounding you're used to.
It's mutual need fueled by
hot and quivering thighs
in sync with pumping arms.
Breath,
torn in gasps by the little death of
achievement,
rants ragged in protest.
You will never finish this marathon life
without sparking fire-fomenting rebellion
inside every mitochondrial membrane.
That heartbeat? It gets frenetic
Tha-thumptha-thumptha-thumptha-thump
amped up on adrenaline and cortisol.
gotta go, gotta finish, gotta win, gotta
love
mariposa stomachs doing backflips and
barrel rolls
while the mind surges upward into an abyss.
Evolution is an arms race.
Combine and separate;
adapt to every shitty hand life throws your
way
and overcome.
This, this was never a prurient goal,
so wipe the sweat from your brow.
Feel the heat of the afterglow,
the
flush of accomplishment.
Sit up straight.
Relax your jaw.
Wash yourself of the salted remnants
of an hour well spent
Tha-thump tha-thump tha-thump
It ends with a heartbeat
The above piece was my submission to Labyrinth, the feminist and literary arts journal of Western Washington University.
No comments:
Post a Comment