I'm finally comfortable riding my bike fourteen miles without stopping.
I'm learning how to shift smoothly, right before I need the change.
I'm enjoying the trail, able to notice the flora and fauna -- while breathing simultaneously.
I'm no longer a heavy drag on Craig.
I'm not noticing any difference in my weight or body structure. This matters not.
I'm feeling the warmth creep into my muscles, and anticipate it.
I'm looking forward to that G-Spot on the trail. The part where sacred waits for me to return.
I always yell as loud as possible -- I LOVE YOU GOD -- with no hands.
The deer, eagles, mice, rabbits, slugs, and woodpeckers stop everything - concurring with holy silence.
Then He breathes on me his pleasure. I feel it begin on the top of my head. It drips over me like a
wide nozzled shower head, covering all of me.
I hesitate to confess -- my brain throbs in time with my swollen heart and tingling skin. My body melts.
Great sobs of joy erupt, enlarging my rib cage. Tears blind me. I can barely breathe.
It's alright, because in that place on the trail I find myself clinging to Someone else, a tandem tangle.