she.

on the sidewalk a heart pumps oxygen

and legs pump spirit

tearing at the soil

aggravating with worn rubber soles and the force

of a body in motion.

birds lumber by

lackluster battery-eyes leering

their wings cling closely –

frosted over by the cold

they wait – stationary, for the lights

and the sun grows heavier on the bruised skyline.

bliss crows

as she soars by

burning up the cement with her legs.

her filmy-eyed spectators gawk

at her freedom.

and each feels it pass them fleetingly

before it tails her around a corner

and fades from their view.

her feet bite the earth,

spitting gravel

snarled mane trailing behind her.

she streaks by the fowl in the road,

their dull eyes twitching,

engines faltering.

watching the lights,

watching the signs.

the birds confine themselves to the road,

letting the lights make up their minds for them.

She has no lights

just a world

with roads

and legs

that

run

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