I just bought this bicycle
but I can imagine
six months from now
recounting near misses
with wry smiles
like the time
that asshole
clipped my back wheel
with his shiny new
BMW.
Your hand pulled me
to safety then;
I soon returned the favor:
this is our way
and I'll keep offering my hand
even six months from now
when you'll be far away
I'll close my eyes
& remember yours
the way they shine sometimes
like they're filled with
almost-tears
like you still hurt
when you see a lost puppy
or hear a change cup
clanging on the corner.
But this is not a love poem
No, I don't write love poems!
I play with possibilities
and trade in small mysteries
like the small of your back
like the curve of your shoulder blade
like how it feels
way down in my stomach
to have your hips
pressed against
mine
Yeah, I deal in anticipation
the held gaze,
the "no-I-shouldn't-
but-I-just-want-to-
so bad"
I'm fine in this space
but then I don't like getting
too comfortable.
Do you remember?
we're barreling down
the FDR at sunset
no helmets
Semi-trucks spitting stones
Wide-eyed children
with open jaws
You look even
more beautiful
in the twilight
but I won't blame you
if you keep your eyes
on the road.
14 years ago
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