...bike o bike...

bike o bike

sun o sun

light o light

run run run

over the shore path

under the dirty bridge

behind the foundry

beside the edge

of the pot hole

porous pavement

save your tires

from bad behavior

...losing count...

there is nothing tragic

about a countess losing

count of her heirs

losing count of her wealth

losing out on this death

of a count

of an account

of a lifted pace or face

of course she is this disgrace

and the knife bring her stasis

cold cold normal stasis

level upon level upon level

of made up make up

countess lose count

of your break ups

fake cups

lips too

million upon million

into your counted oblivion