in a moment i’m a child
my eyes heavy in the back seat
a highway hymn and i’m nodding off
the tires singing on asphalt
the train rattling, perfectly distant

i fall awake as the car bends
through glass i meet
the curb we last saw your bicycle

i remember you ran away that night
off something no one really said
or really did
but you decided that ghosts
would be better at explaining

pedaling faster— until launching
forehead gashed, again
no emergency visit this time
in a reality made of rust
and rubber, you lost grip
a victim of your own imagination

i know we moved years ago
but i still come to the bend
just to see the way they paved over the grass
the wheels still turning
in my manufactured memory
your spirit rising, or smoking
i feel you here, still
and it hurts you don’t miss me
and i keep saying you’ll come around
but i forget that’s the kind of ending you only watch in movies
and i forget what channel we were on
before the power went out