Poetry: A pursued distraction (by Brianroy)

I’m standing here, but I’ve forgotten why.
I’m digging into my pockets,
looking for a memo I thought I wrote for myself, and looking around.
What is the reason?, I ask myself with a sigh;
Did I come for a book or a look, or drop something on the ground?

And then I see you through the living room window,
As on the sidewalk you stroll on by;
And thumpa-thumpa does my heart go;
As I race to put on my running clothes so quick and sly.

And out the door I race, and suddenly stop;
As I run back to grab the house keys in my hand.
Out to the edge of the front lawn I trot,
As I frantically look;
Where did that voluptuously beautiful woman go, I ask myself;
And see that you’re not yet out of sight.
Ah, just a block to a block and a half away...
Then down the road I book.

I sprint as with wings,
and my legs feel as made of air.
Children and old ladies stare with awe,
as I fly past slow moving cars,
gaining ground.

You round a curb, and pass out of sight;
And as I strain to see where you are going;
I arc too wide, coming in too fast, and...
Pow! I run into a light!

And just before I pass out,
I remember reading something like...
"Beware the lust of the eyes,
the lust of the flesh,"
(and what was that last line?),
"and the pride of...light?" ("thump").