full body into the pedals i'm
taking off i'm soaring i can never be
stopped, & the instances
captured in the lighted spaces whizzing by
are held hostage by these cold dark streets
are bound to each other
in some self-referential collage that
contracts and expands and
repeats night after night after night & my
squeaky bike chains and my visible breaths
give me away
make me look solid and grounded and real
while really truly i'm weightless and gone.
& the silhouette of yr beard is too
close a match, too
strong a resemblance so i
shake my head & will you away
& what am i trying to prove with this
attempt at inexistance i wonder
what detachment have i designated
for myself?
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