South on 16th,
I can hear my heartbeat as my feet take turns kissing the sidewalk,
I can see it in the distance,
Its red light teases me like an Amsterdam whore,
Bentley at the Capitol Hilton tells me I am getting closer,
Four K and I’m dwarfed by my toothpick pie in the sky,
The smooth marble laps the heat from my palm as I lean against it,
My frame casts a tall shadow on the giant obelisk as I turn home,
K Street suits walk and talk: “Get us a res at Flamingo East”,
My legs and lungs searing,
I know that gravity has betrayed me for this return leg,
I smile as I see Malcolm X to my right,
I am home.
Update: Two days later on Thursday, I noticed my nipples were sore and a little scabbed in the center. I didn’t connect it to my five mile run on Tuesday night until I googled “chaffed nipples” and realized it was a common issue amongst runners. Problem solved.