Today's sun is turning to yesterday's
all around us, and the road is rolling
in blue, and I've forgotten about
crying because we're laughing,
for these wheels belong to me, and this
sky belongs to me, and sun pours
over my wrists like a beautiful scarf,
and you're smiling from somewhere inside you -
and then the tarmac smacks my ribs,
and the bike has long gone,
and your blue shirt
rolls from me like a scrap of sky,
and pain blooms in my temple
and dark blood has broken onto my hands
and people are running towards us like children
across half-remembered fields in white sun.
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