100. I’m trusting you (to teach me how to ride a bike)

First his hand,
then his arm
wrapped firmly around my waist
and held me in place.

„You won’t let me
get lost in the vacuum of my thoughts again,
will you?“

I asked,
then added:

„This isn’t that trick,
when you tell the child to drive the bike
because you’re holding the seat,
and then let it go
to teach them a lesson?“

First his fingers,
then his nails
cut into the flesh of my back
to make sure I know
he’s holding on.

This isn’t going to be
that kind of a poem.
I’ve got nothing to teach you,
you haven’t already learned
from your dad,
when his hand accidentally slipped
and lead to that fall
which cemented your decision
never to ride a bike again.“

First with my body,
then with my head,
I recognize
he’s telling me the truth.

„Say, you wouldn’t want to…“
„Teach you how to ride a bike?“
„Of course.“

Seems I’ve got a thing or two
to learn
about myself yet.
I’m trusting you to
keep my knees
appropriately feminine
and scab-free.





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