evening bike ride

from where i am
to where i’ve been.
was i to start again
i could not be happier.
even if reborn
with tattoos
acknowledging the flesh.
we topped each other
many times.
he held my head
between his thighs.
his human incense
burned scars in my brain.
we lubricated friction
from changes of pace.
train wrecks and car crashes.
he erupts in me.
groaning twisted steel.
my edge is defined
more in his mouth.
sleazy , easy and wet.
the emotions of knots.
fine lines of tears
we bottle for the jubilee.
his sperm is fresh.
the climate
of my balls rises
across his lips.
olive ghosts
without leaves
dance for us.
their cocks blessed
by god.
we fuck.
i’m not happier
more than i remember
where i am going.

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