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Playing Chicken with an Old Friend
no blink, no bluff—
just rust-bitten bikes
on a gravel road,
grip slipping, brakes optional.
we called it honing our craft,
we didn’t dodge.
we needed the crash—
proof we meant it,
authentication we weren’t just
trading truths for dopamine
and DMs.
some bicycles
are built to survive
impact.
mine wasn’t one of them.
Copyright ©
Jaymee Thomas
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