they say chemicals

i want rollerskates, a tape recorder, and a hammock so i can skate to the park and lie hanging beneath the trees singing soft songs to the breeze.

it's been two weeks since i've practiced and already my fingers have forgotten all the strings. it's been seven months since i biked for hours along the danube, singing with all my might to the sun. seven months! that's so many days between me and where i maybe want to be. i maybe want to be everywhere or anywhere or just somewhere where all my friends won't keep moving away. yesterday everything was a reminder, and i could feel my eyes stretching wide to take in all these places just out of reach. i rode home a new way and found the smoothest-rolling paved alley in the city, & when i looked to my left, through the slats of the fence and across the empty lot, another cyclist was mirroring my path.

i remember the way she cut his hair and then brushed the clippings from his bare back, hesitantly, tenderly.

i remember hands on my thighs from both sides while we piled on laps and sang beatles songs in someone's hallway on a fuzzy early morning.