I’ve walked off dinner
stomach full of giving thanks
for scalloped potatoes and extended family
around a folding table on Long Island
I’ve walked off crushes
tried to force them from my teenaged mind
bouncy energy thrumming, wired headphones twisting in my fingers
cutting off blood
I’ve walked off calories
after allowing dessert, having eaten
too much too fast
shame driven circles around the block
I’ve walked off too slow buses
in bike lanes I’ve allowed for pedestrians—sorry, pedestrian.
I got to work before the M23 rounded the corner
as far as I know
I’ve walked off you
I still am walking, running, jumping,
biking, skipping, flying
Sprinting—
Claire Beaver
Claire Beaver is a multidisciplinary writer living and working in New York. Her work has been featured in Last Leaves Magazine, Outspoken, Victory Lapped, and more. Her first chapbook, bones, ashes, fire, was recently released from Bottlecap Press. She is passionate about the power of art and how we interact with it in our daily lives, whether that be conscious or not. She has an M. Phil in Creative Writing from Trinity College Dublin.