these moments that stretch time,
when the ground arrives fast to collide with my body,
these,
are the sudden blindsides that
seem to cancel out
the 2 steps forward.
something old is hunkering down and blocking the doorway.
it's steamy hide is thick with stench and decay;
it's face, a gnarled knot of provocation and panic.
it's got me cornered, for now.
glancing sideways around it,
searching for the red light exit
is a meager attempt at escape.
instead, I sit
and wince and whine and wait
until I can look into the eyes of it
and stand again.
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