Saturday

Riding

The bent ridges of a properly folded fairing,
imperfect paint sought early on

Forgotten later the canvas turns,
ivory slap taffy feel of it

Scentless lube and pools of gravel twinkle flakes,
backpedaling after school

Down foresworn twowayness,
swallowed up and convinced it was safe

Machined into dotted bends "Pass With Care",
worth its wait in scissor metal

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