you are riding a laufmaschine, a dandy horse,
right into my gut.
i always knew the wheels
you constantly stroked
would be my downfall.
you carried bike parts from your parents’ house -
they invited me to italy to holiday.
all i could think is my family could never afford a
foreign holiday.
they gave me gin & tea until i could not feel my face.
they gave me gin & tea until my love for you spilled
on the breakfast table.
you ride your dandy horse
back & forth from work to my arms.
i was another form of work.
love is not work.
love is not labor.
love is as simple as two wheels to me
& two wheels to you.
i called you in a different hemisphere to tell you
i did not love you.
you told me first.
i am still writing poems for you in the bath.
two wheels slowly stopping,
intertia.
