The Import/Export of Concern

He wondered
how the pound,
of a heart,
could mean so much.
Sound, sight, smell, taste
ceased to be real long ago,
but he felt more alive,
more engaged,
then he could explain.
His mind buzzed
around a thought.
Inside was a need
being struck,
vibrated
from the top of his skin,
into bone, muscle, and tissue,
through every thing physical
to the core of being human.

Up and down,
it pounded,
permeated him.
Blood raced,
pulsed with a rush.
The compulsion
was a will of its own,
to meet the goal

yet never complete the journey,
to succeed?
Could he continually fulfill
- renew, reenergize, release -
without achieving a finality to his quest?
There was no answer,
and eventually,
concern ceased to matter.

Fire and Sweat

She watched
the sweat drip
down his back.
Patterns laced
his skin.
Dipping in
and out
depending
on how the muscles
bunched
and massed
here or there.
A fine one
she thought
as her arm
drew back,
ignoring the ache
that was already
a steady fire
in her shoulders,
back and arms,
she resumed.
For it was him,
at stake,
his need,
his sensibility,
and his completion.
She would meet
the challenge
and deal with the cost later.