June 7, 2011 § Leave a comment
Legs piston-pumping through the opaque heat of a New York summer. I blink through the veil of sweat and wonder briefly at your life, carrying on, evolving, happening without me. So firmly held prisoner and apart by our own skins, continents, the sea, promises we made before we knew each other.
I whistle something tuneless that catches on the breeze and it whips past me to the rider on my right. She is an old friend, lost in her own biking thoughts, one eye turned inward and the other on passing cars and strangers.
I swerve simmering asphalt potholes, look up, note a passing plane, fancy outrunning it to Chelsea and grin at my own foolish games of make-believe. Finally making my darting way home through the constant obstacle course of big city traffic, I wonder if you ever conjure up my life happening over here without you.