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you were a doe, dissapearing into trees beyond the clearing in the park. i raised my head too late to see how fully beautiful you really were. Only a few seconds from the back did I drink you in. Your feet cleared the tall grass as you ran. Keds with light blue socks. Your supple legs were perfectly tanned all the way up, and i imagined just beyond the tight frilled border of your cutoff jeans. Maybe you were 20. Sporting a backpack and a tight ponytail of straight brown hair. You were tall and vibrant, back arched as you ran. Your breasts must have been magnificent. I imagined myself between your legs, caressing you with my tongue. watching your bellybutton rise and fall on the ocean of your chocolate skin, pulled by the tide of your involuntary breath. You were a miracle in that moment, and then you were gone. For that fleeting instance the universe stood still, as if I was dropped into a painting by Manet. Lunch in the park with you would have been divinity incarnate.