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I keep thinking about the bike rider
The one who rode past the night we kissed on the street corner
I never mentioned this before
I didn’t want to admit that I was kissing with my eyes open
I’m sorry
I was trying to live that moment to the fullest

Or something

My memory
My sensorial memory
Places that kiss on a summer night
It sets the light at dusk
The temperature in the high twenties
The pavement as cooling
My sensorial memory exposes skin
A strapless dress perhaps
A light shirt
Half unbuttoned
Out of character for us both but

That’s what my memory says
My calendar says different
It places that kiss in mid-winter
We were both tipsy so dusk was long gone
And yet
And yet
My fingers remember the greasy film of sunscreen

My memory is
Not to be trusted

But I believe in the bike rider
I felt him pass with every inch of my skin
Every guilty eyelash shifted with his breeze

I wanted to run after him
To stop the spinning wheels and demand
Could you tell?
Could you tell that was the first time our lips had touched?
The first time any lips had touched mine in years
Do you know what you just witnessed?
Do you understand the potential that was that kiss?
Could you hear the blood in my veins as you flew by?
Each heart beat its own tidal wave of excitement
And total paralysing terror

My lips have hurt people in the past
Well not my lips
Poetic license
But my heart
My body
My life
My fear
My fear has left whole cities in ruins
Well not whole cities
Poetic license
It felt like cities
It felt like ruins

Don’t take it personally baby
But I kissed you with my eyes open
Drinking in the moment did I say?
Fuck that shit
I was hunting for bricks
Bricks with which to build my own labyrinth
To fence myself off from the world
I long to be impenetrable
I want vines to spring up
Weeds to flourish
Graffiti to appear:

Don’t take it personally baby
That kiss made bile rise in my throat
Did you taste it?
Kissing you made a winter summer
A night day
It uprooted weeds
It tore down walls
And vines
And I had never been more afraid

But here we are
Three years later
And you have not been damaged
And the city not destroyed
And I still think of the bike rider
And wonder how much he knew
Because that moment was so big
So apocalyptically violent
That he must have felt it
He must have known it
As he flew past
I wrote this yesterday. Completely sleep deprived and chaotic (as I always am the week before a show opens and two of mine open next week). Fortunately, sometimes I enjoy what chaos does to my writing. Hope you do to.

Also, as some of you may already know, I have a blog where I post some fiction, politics and a lot about theatre. It is Head over if you are interested. But I'll forgive you if you want to skip the long-form dramaturgical analysis of theatre shows. :P
Add a Comment:
raisingedge Featured By Owner Oct 4, 2013
Beautiful. I love this poetry.
Halohid Featured By Owner Oct 18, 2013
Thank you!
spork-in-your-EYE Featured By Owner Sep 22, 2013
ah! I have had much the same thought! although maybe not specifically a bike rider, but a person passing by. He had no idea how important that moment was.
Halohid Featured By Owner Oct 18, 2013
Yes sometimes you feel your life moments should be in capital letters. 
SilentlyDamned Featured By Owner Sep 22, 2013  Hobbyist Writer
Fantastic.  Really love the imagery in your 8th stanza.  "POISON, DO NOT ENTER, A DRAGON SLEEPS HERE."  Very powerful writing.  I frequently have a hard time deciding if I like your photographic or written art better.  Sadly, haven't had a chance to see your dramas.  But... this is definitely something I'd rate among my favorites of your work.

Also: "My fear has left who cities in ruins"  Whole, right?  I tend to miss things like that in my writing, here's hoping you appreciate the editor in me.
Halohid Featured By Owner Sep 22, 2013
Oh thank you! I'll change it now. Much appreciated. 
Manlarr Featured By Owner Sep 21, 2013   Photographer
Excellent work and beautifully written.
Halohid Featured By Owner Oct 18, 2013
Thank you!
anila73 Featured By Owner Sep 19, 2013  Hobbyist Writer
Holy crap, I love how the mood starts off sweet and ends hateful.
Halohid Featured By Owner Oct 18, 2013
Haha, thank you. 
GriffinsJoy Featured By Owner Sep 18, 2013  Professional Traditional Artist
Fantastic! I am so glad you shared this! :D you are such a real and relatable author. I feel like reality is sharp in your words and you actually understand the intense power of well used language. Thank you! 
Halohid Featured By Owner Oct 18, 2013
Thank you so much! What a lovely response!
Monte-X-Hector Featured By Owner Sep 18, 2013
I like this a lot! By the way, I've made some of my favorite pieces while sleep deprived.
Halohid Featured By Owner Oct 18, 2013
Yes there is something about the sort of freeing about being sleep deprived because you lose that judgemental inner voice.  
fotoasylum Featured By Owner Sep 18, 2013
L. O. V. E.   T. H. I. S.   A.   L. O. T. !!  !!  !!
Halohid Featured By Owner Oct 18, 2013
T.H.A.N.K. Y.O.U., S.I.R.!! So glad you enjoyed it. 
fotoasylum Featured By Owner Oct 19, 2013
HalfGeniusHalfWit Featured By Owner Sep 18, 2013
I do indeed very much enjoy its chaotic nature.  It makes it feel like witnessing someone else's raw, natural unfiltered thoughts rather than their explanation of them.
Halohid Featured By Owner Oct 18, 2013
Thanks, hon! 
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September 17, 2013
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