I was looking out my window
when I saw you bike by,
I thought about calling your name-
hesitated,
and you rode past.


So sweet
the air,
running through my hair
while I ride my bike,
so soft
the air,
as it caresses my cheek,
I peddle faster
the air
rushing past me.
My bike transports me
I ride until I reach the blue horizon
until the Earth falls away from me.
The endless ripples and
waves soar and swell as
I try to smell
salty air-
but there’s only
a sweet breeze-
a warm hand
gliding across my cheek.


There is no
        window.