by Lauren Camp
Less to ache in this punishment than to know
how many ripples are in you
+ twist + yoke those brutish muscles. Sky colors will pass
at the gym window as you are curving
your center, relentless. Urging to better
the repetitions: palpable
form, tighten, arrange the inguinal quarrel. DJ Khaled + Bruno
Mars + their fixed beats + 5
people at the elliptical sloop without
footfall noise just the swish of the oval. At the free weights
insistent, you hold
five seconds further. To the intricate edge and sermon
of physical fiber. You know we live
in a grief: troops + displacement. When the steam engine
of anger runs through you, the tincture
useless, you go past
the doorstep to pummel the hexagonal losses.
How simple the limber
body, the trance of endurance. One inward hour to a next.