Sometimes it would be three o'clock

and we would stop somewhere

basically a windowless cafe

and the old carpet would smell like dogs

dust would fill the air

and even the tea would be bad

then we would hit the road again

pedaling in the wind

a taste of blood in the mouth

mosquitoes on the teeth

memories would finally be tired

and we could go to bed
*first posted in March 2020, reviewed in March 2021