It was sweet of you to sit beside me tonight
I needed someone to listen to the air with me
the two of our faces submerged in a mess
of cold winds and wintery spite and sounds
coats pulled to our ears covered in wool hats
shivers peddling their little dances through us
tremors from the soft of our shoulders
to the flats of our fingertips and holding tight
to our chests trying their best to force even breaths
we sat and waited for whatever we waited for
each unhappy with circumstances we dismissed
in a coat-and-glove-inducing January whisper
too early to be dark out and too late for light
but it was sweet of you to sit beside me.

Some say
the moon favours
those who listen to it

and some
have never listened
to the moon.

The first few trains in the morning
in early January are still so dark

you'll feel as if you're still sleeping
trying to make out familiar buildings

we're only now recovering from holiday glow
so no one here wants to be here

but out the window is a hint of comfort
a whisper that the week will so soon end

if you blink they'll wink right back
the flickering blue and yellow lights

of home.

Tonight I'll swim in your sweater
and I'll dream of waking up

in a soft nest of white gold
with your messy hair

teasing the freckles
off my tired nose.

I had a space
in the shape of you
before I knew you
were even a shape.

I'm aware that we construct our realities
I guess I just stopped building when you left.

To the old blue bicycle
chained to the pipes
on the corner of University
and Dundas street West

I saw you first in early October
showing off my new shoes
walking to work on Sunday
you were prized and new
a little scratched but true
with speedy silver highlights

the next time I saw you
you had lost your front tire
someone needed it more than you did
and perhaps you willingly offered

by the end of the month
you had no more silver
and both your tires were missing
you hung by your chain
your paint peeling in pain
but again I just walked past you

when it first snowed too early
I found you again on the ground
once sturdy, gleaming and fast
now rusted, robbed and hollow

you and I have much in common
old blue bike on University avenue
we both were once so strong and proud
but little by little we were pulled apart
someone needed each piece more than we did
and we thought we could help so we gave

now we're both our own rusted frames
scattered and empty in the busy street.