His footfalls are regular
They echo mine
I hear his breathing
It echoes my own
Audible
not heavy
Our hearts pump in unison
Hot blood
Bodies pulsing
as they did so long ago
He's tall
seems taller;
his long-muscled legs
pound
in time with mine
He glances at me,
a checking-out kind of smile
a gentle enquiry
“You ok?
“Nearly 5k.”
Somewhere
behind distant memories
a bell chimes
The same question
resurrected
from the sweetest time
of wonder and surrender
when my body was his
and his
was mine
“You ok?”
Knees drawn up,
Breathing,
Braced against
the unknown,
ready to exert, endure, expel
unready
for the risky ride
imposed without consent
from within
“You ok?”
The release of
a cord; thick,
tight around his neck;
the putty-grey baby,
unopening eyes
whisked away
confusion and whispers
“What about him?”
“Tell me.”
“You ok?”
Waiting
Suffering
incalculable moments
accumulating eternities
of dread.
Silent pleadings
and desperate negotiations;
the alternative common prayer book
of the helpless
“You ok?”
More than.
Ridiculously astonished;
profoundly grateful
that
Thirty years on,
our two hearts
are running in rhythm
beating as one
feeling the life.
