Word After Word

I ran too much or too fast.

Now I can’t, at all.

It was almost worth it though. Those dang Olympics. That’s how I got into the speed work.

I am not Jeremy. “He’s so cocky!” my Pilates teacher said.

I like cocky. It feels to me like pure intention.  I’m sure I’m wrong,

but it seems like a good thing. Making yourself into an arrow and

wearing a necklace. He seems like worry and no-worry, cancelling each other out.

I