Count to ten, and try to guess how many footsteps I've put between us.

One.
The first steps are cotton-soft, tentative as the first movements of a baby's lips, learning to speak.
Two.
There is the first cracking of a twig beneath my feet, like the first crack in your confidence, right on time.
Three.
Warmth in my kneecaps reminds me that blood can flow without razor blades. I had forgotten this crucial fact.
Four.
This is the first breath I have taken that bears no trace of your scent, and the air is sweeter than your cologne.
Five.
I take my first look back, hair whipping into my mouth. You look lost, confused, but I'm not sorry.
Six.
Both feet have fallen in love with movement. The ground beneath me will change, even if you don't.
Seven.
Every cell in my body is charging for strength, ejecting your influence and sharpening my instincts.
Eight.
You're a blur lost in my background. My feet are my entire field of vision, furious and racing.
Nine.
Faster. My arms would run too if they could touch the ground. My rhythm is quick and insistent.

Ten.

I'm gone, I'm gone, wherever I am.

12/03/2003

Author's Note: one. i'm always anxious for comments. two. sometimes when you play hide & seek, you don't really want to be found. three. this chiefly occurs when playing with exes. four. no, not real games of hide & seek.

Posted on 12/04/2003
Copyright © 2024 Mainon A Schwartz