i hear my way through
the dark
siamese heart
where you end i start
on a moonlight bicycle ride
the perfume of ferns
whizzes by
my willow wicker
bicycle basket
is the sycamore
leaves casket
the undoing
buttons and zippers
giggling on the moss
i love the molasses slow
peeling your clothes off
i can't see
you when i
try
only in static from
the corner of my eye