Complications

Oh fastboys, why is it so difficult to quit you?

Why do I simply have to dodge my way through traffic, following your swallow-like flight, pedaling my old(er) heart out to keep up? Why don't I just say no, thank you, I've had enough complications for one summer.

Well, I did say it. And then I kissed you anyway, like someone who didn't know her own mind (I don't). Or knew her own mind but ignored its better judgment because some other part of her was not in agreement with the streamlining-the-weirdness plan.

Damn oh damn oh damn. I don't even know why, other than that maybe I like pummeling my way through traffic, barely able to keep you in sight, skinny long-limbed leaf on the wind. Damn oh damn oh damn.