You Know the Way by Saskia Hamilton

What he wants from me is numb, it is crushed
inside the dark hole of the last place you’d ever look.

I have practiced dreaming. It works sometimes.
My heart is there, somewhere thrilling away.

I can’t kiss anyone for just this reason.
And there’s just the voice in my ear, which says:

I’m looking for one rusty black bike
one rusty thing to take me down the road.