Yesterday, I thought of riding. That's not unusual, but where I was riding was. I remembered a stretch of canyon lane that I was on only once. I went on a bike that I was unfamiliar with, with another person who I was unsure about, about too late in the day to have a great time almost, almost out of gas. I didn't run out. But, I never stopped either. I kept going. never thinking, never questioning. Connection just right, intention just to the left of white. Why can't I remember more, like the conversations before and after. the mile markers, the turns? I draw a blank. I can't sink far enough into the past to bring it back. I just remember the feeling. Intent, present. I didn't know the road like the back on any part of my anatomy. I can't even tell you the road number or if it was county or state.
There is only the thought. That I was there...
And that I want to go back.
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