Together on the Harley ,
I touched the leather
of your jacket,
and felt the thrill
of bike, man, woman,
and road
as one unit
connected
to the earth.
Our love was magnetic.
Its irresistible force
pulled us together.
The strength of the field
could not be seen
by the human eye,
but was unquestionable.
We smiled over the table.
Unguarded laughter
bubbled up
between us.
Later, a gap formed
that could not be traveled.
The poles crossed,
north became south,
and we lost our place
in the world.
Why was there no middle
between the poles?
Were we not more
than the positive
or negative charges
of the magnet,
but an amalgamation
of all the love and failings
held in place by our bond
no matter where
the compass points?
Without your heart,
I ached
to find my place.
Without gravity and balance,
my bearings slipped.
Please let me touch you again.
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