YOUR BLUE SHIRT

all around us, and the road is rolling

in blue, and I've forgotten about

crying because we're laughing,

for these wheels belong to me, and this

sky belongs to me, and sun pours

over my wrists like a beautiful scarf,

and you're smiling from somewhere inside you -

and then the tarmac smacks my ribs,

and the bike has long gone,

and your blue shirt

rolls from me like a scrap of sky,

and pain blooms in my temple

and dark blood has broken onto my hands

and people are running towards us like children

across half-remembered fields in white sun.