Monday, March 21, 2016

: you know how

when you quit anything
cold
you think you forget
how you ever knew how–

so much really is like riding a bike,
memories in your fingers
embedded in your nose
rooted down to your toes, all twenty-six bones.

the smell of home,
              of that spring,
              of necks, 

then that one familiar neck 
reminds you what it's like 
to begin again.