Bicycle so Fast
Yanked out of a dream with a bicycle
so fast the bicycle remains standing
in the dream and the dream remains right
before my eyes. It’s proof,
worldly tethers do exist, proof of hands.
Here, my quilt-warm lover, my water
works of morning light land
heavy on my limbs and
I’d push away from them if I could
move, or breathe in only
the bicycle world, or only here. Just the one
world.
The split screen morning is
a painful fissure.
This light invades that dream
where the bicycle is perfectly still.
My hands make its shape under
the bed sheets, perfectly unbalanced
in both realities. Both
brokenly calling.
| Ariana Turiansky |
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