ride

easily, it could have been
the stories from emergency room doctors
or crazy city drivers
her parents' early and stern instructions
the generic and perfectly reasonable fear of falling
getting hurt
scraping herself
bleeding somewhere unstoppable
all of this could have stopped her
slowed her at least
the statistics alone
the idea of lowering her chances for...
she knows this and still
still


all week
she takes the three miles
from her house to the beach,
then back,
take the miles in the hardest gear,
straining, all calves,
she takes the miles
pedals churning, and helmet-less.

it's a delirious rule-breaking
a deliberate omission and
risk risk risk
you're being risky
oh my god do you realize...
you shouldn't...
i wouldn't...
you'd better...
don't you think...
what if...

and yet, as soon as the wheels hit pavement
they connect to the bike
and the bike connects to her body and
just as soon her body
is connecting to everything
movement, wind, the electric discovery
that she alone is responsible for how fast
and how far
and she forgets,
in the first rotation of the first downhill, she forgets
the kinesthetics of risk
the potential fall
a vision of embedded gravel
the ear-splitting whir of an ambulance
somehow
she takes to the ride this way
forgetting the inches from this
disaster, tragedy, blood
she takes to the ride this way
can't help it because
on the bike her heart,
her whole heart
is in her calves.