trading flesh

no training wheels
just go
rolling across the cement stages
of life
sometimes you drift that way
you bend quite dangerously low
perhaps you swing back to center, somehow
imagine shoestrings
tangled with chain and pedal
crunched and choked in grease
sudden stillness flings you forward
skin seeking gravel grinding
it hurts to trade flesh
you know
those rocks are still in my knee caps
fusing themselves to tendrils of tendons
bathing in blood and plasma
bits of me are blue and knotted now
as so many life forms make a home beneath my skin
perhaps they never were smooth and young, either