Being

I ride and agree to be at the mercy of my feet.
I sit down on my perfect little seat.
I play my music and hear each song like it was the first time.
I forget where to go and breeze by the street signs.
I ride with the wind.
Motion can never pretend.
I notice something different every time I ride.
I sway through the intersections and carve my own divide.
I make the time to cruise through the streets.
I never notice if anything repeats.
I get ideas about spreading my magic.
It feels good to suddenly become erratic.
I can visit the beach and then paint a picture.
A drive by smile shows off my nature.
I park the wheels where I can see my rebellion.
My handle bars have become my companion.
-B