poem without an end

this poem is the last scoop of ice cream in a bowl with two spoons,

this poem is a song that keeps playing after we fall asleep,

this poem is a hand in the dark that reaches out for yours,

this poem is a wobbling motorbike with a flat tire,

this poem says you were here and so was i and i loved you.

this poem goes on if we split the last scoop,

this poem goes on if we don't stop the music,

this poem goes on if you hold my hand,

this poem goes on if we drag the bike home,

this poem goes on if you want it to, if you need it to, if you don't write an end.