staccato blockades

In the moment it takes me
to run past their
early-afternoon morning, somewhat disheveled 
wandering
on this semi-urban wooded trail...

Her morning-after obligation stares 
straight ahead 
while his denial steals 
glances 
down toward her hands.

Or is this the prelude 
to a one-sided terminal relationship grown 
too comfortable for any honesty 
to ease out?

It escapes in tiny explosions,
imageless fireworks tumbling into
staccato blockades
that we will keep meandering around

Enjoying the sun glaze
as our heads tilt back


©Erin Croley

Still so drafty...
*feedback and revision ideas welcomed!