Northern Ireland

she said I lied when I said I had nothing to say

I had lots

but to hear you, just to hear you
while I sit in this room
with clothes strewn about,
the night before another holiday
of biking the beauty of places
you’ll never see
with those who only know that
falsetto voice

I think your Midwestern drawl
and deep loud laughter
will air my tires
or cushion
my head
pump potassium
into my
cramping
calves
while I
cycle
spin
ache
coast