It never hit me
what I'd miss
riding in the light of night
barefooted soles touch
grass, a woven basket of darkened green.
You were a winner, (though humble)
a bee without a sting.
You called me kid
but it never did sound the same
when the wind whispered it.
Laying under the handlebar moon,
I grasp the edge and slide it toward me
trying to find you in the sky
a bicycle of stars
I begin pedaling toward a further nowhere.
It never hit me
until you were gone that
the push I shoved to throw your love away
was a push that somehow
pulled me under.
I gasp for air, lean my head back,
my hair spreads with fluidity in the dark
brimming backward towards never again
as words unsaid spill over and I'm left mumbling
a hum in unison with the cicadas of summer.
I grab the moon
slam down the stars
and pedal faster.
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