I have a memory of him
that I love.

I came over on a sunny day
and he asked me to take
a ride with him.
Of course I said yes.

He smiled when I put on
the helmet,
and I wrapped my arms
around his waist.
Everybody used to think
I was crazy for getting
on the back of his bike,
but I wasn't afraid.
I trusted him.

And I remember that during
the ride he would let his right
hand fall,
and rest on my leg.
I knew he was doing this
on purpose because I could feel
his fingers tighten around me.

Even though my *** hurt
from sitting on the back
of his dirt bike,
I didn't want it to end.

Riding was his special thing,
and I felt such joy that he
wanted me along.

I would do anything
to be on the back of that bike
again.