I ran.

I ran to run towards and away.

I ran to move.

Like a shark, I would die, if I did not move.

Columns of sorrow rose up in this city.

I never perceived them before.

It took near-fatal heartbreak,

To become sensible

To the near-fatal heartbreak that is like fabric,

Like mesh,

The warp and the weft.

 

You.

You threw a javelin.

How did you have such perfect aim?

And I, compelled to run,

Cannot remove it, or I will die outright.

What a heavy object with which to move.

What weight I bear because of you (because of me).