arterial-bound

April 2026, Berlin

a city’s lifeblood is found
on a bicycle at dark.

listenlisten, you’ll hear the pulse.

through tiny sunglasses, leather, and the gritted asphalt beneath your wheels.

if your legs churn, if your knuckles turn white, if you feel lactic acid,
       the ichor will coat your tongue too.

currents of stragglers, lovers, club rats, delivery scooters oxidize the streets, 
       create life from dead air. 

handlebar strobe-lights catching emotion in still after still. 

permission to turn hungry eyes upward and outward.

in motion, a bit of you cannot be torn away 
       when eye contact plays catch and release.

fall in love and lose it in an instant.

and again at the crosswalk, cheeks pink 
        and lifetimes in the air with a jagged exhale. 

wholly theirs ‘til green-means-go, and you’re pulled to outrace that yellow tram.

taste copper in the blur of eyes places patterns.

blood or ichor, you’re beyond it now. 

you’re arterial-bound.