a photo prompt from Read Write Poem. You can see the photo here.
After running, I lay myself down
on the throw rug, belly floorwards,
and listen to the blood's beat slacken.
The throb untangles and draws out
to stillness. Recumbent, a heat
flushes outward and there’s a trance
of the mind in abeyance, the body unwinding,
the snag of inertia that follows exertion -
a feeling not to tease into thought
until the run is over.
Like a tunnel emptying at both ends,
I feel myself lengthen with each exhalation.
It is strange to observe the body
close down, like letting a clock do its work,
deciding nothing. I press the heels
of my palms against my eyelids.
I turn my eyes back into my body
and see there’s nothing in there,
nothing and no one.