moving wheels

i have been here.
the time is different but
i have been here.

i have always been taught
to be fond of plainness,
but you caught me by surprise
when you turned back thrice
on your delicate moving wheels.

i only dare lower my head
with the faintest wistfulness
when your wheels fly straight
into the dimming love
of opiate street light.

(forgetful street,
your memory no longer bears us
but i can trace his steps and mine
down your flower padded paths
a thousand days ago.)

i have been here.
the one on wheels changes often
but i have always been here.