Not a lot beyond the asphalt. Sense of heat. Some heat arising. Hot sun on my foot. Grimy hands, oil of muffin on my fingers. Ashes floating in the air. Smell—coffee roasted black. Harm. Gas moving through my pelvis. Hair strands bothering my face. Dry with work. Wet with love. Sparrow visits.
Tag Archives: feet
Feeling oversized, overwrought, overcome. Feeling feet in shoes. Feeling a non-yogic sluggishness, untoned qualities creeping in and the mind is coalescing.
It still seems too high-falutin’, don’t it? There’s an etymology for you. Look it up when you get home.
If you get home. Too many layers. Can you layer in the ujjayi breath, she asks? She massages my feet lightly delicately at the end of class. What a slow reception.
Pain in my feet. Cramps from the heavy boot. Hair falling down, escaping the barrette in wild strands.
Guilt drinking coffee without Sam.