Tracking

The night is still
Forceful in its silence
Withholding of anything

Generous
Anything soft

With promise

Shadows poke like branches
Into wanton flesh
Needing to be touched

But by degree
And only by one

Speed is of the essence
The chase begins within
There are no mileposts
No guiding stars

No shortcuts not laden with traps

And the only sound you hear
Are faint and
faltering footsteps

Tracking

In the dark