Mine

Two little kids on their bikes
We shot our shots to the sky.

We sat together on the roof and listened to nothing
We decided it must be the sound of life
when construction from afar didn’t seem to cease.

We packed our bags in the middle of the night
to sneak out.
But we could only stare at the gates of the neighborhood
Holding hands.

Darkness enclosed
And we turned back.

You were intoxicated one time
So I lied to the rest of the world and kept you close.
Stayed with you until you were asleep, one hot afternoon.
Our pinky fingers held each other and we collided into a deep slumber.


It was to feel the high; to feel alive
that we rode our bikes like maniacs.

I remember what you did when I taught you to go downhill; when I said let yourself go:
Don’t press on the brakes until the very end and
let yourself go.

You let yourself go to the very end
And I remember you collide into the brick wall.

When I rushed over,
you were smiling.
You said you saw it coming
and let it happen.