Finish Line

I linger in the doorway
rediscovering the desire
to climb up on you
straddle my thighs
across you
leaning over you
squeezing slightly
to balance my body
over your still frame
Letting out heavy sighs
as the sweat begins
to tease my skin
from the natural highs
and those deeper sighs
Pushing each other
further and faster
over invisible lines
near before and after
My legs become weak
but my will is in sync
with your obvious intention
to wear me out
so that you can cross
the finish line
And now
you are covered in cold
winter has kept you
hidden, unused, unwanted
decorated in icicles
But I still have memories
of riding you often
racing and winning
with you
my bicycle