The clouds seem undecided, hesitant; poised and electric over the soccer posts,

Finally pausing for climactic effect; stealing our breath and pushing on our hearts―

Natural CPR in the rhythm of barometric fluxes and adrenaline; tension building along

The higher and higher notes being played across the goose bumps on our skin;

Perspiration adding its own bass line in a melody so focused that it grips our

Vitals, keeping us going. We live for sight and sensation― for the electrical pressure

An arm's reach above us, for the thrill of the imminent danger melting into our cores,

Solidifying into knotted panes of tense muscle and metal, singly aware of the present―

Of the Now, ringing with shrill anticipation; echoes of running footsteps reverberating

Only where they were made; thoughts reserved to themselves, the wind being dead to convey a voice other than our own

― Silence caught off-guard upon hearing a suddenly heavy pulse;

Thudding steps and drops ripping through the thick apprehension. ― Breathe.