Leveler Poetry Journal
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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



             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