Jennifer Lesh Fleck
What Counts as a Heart in a Bicycle
by Jennifer Lesh Fleck Circus-striped streamers dazzle my handlebars. My leatherette seat wears printed roses and flourishes, like a Western saddle. I’m pretty, parked alongside my brothers and sisters. My factory paint has glitter in the pink, swirling like cosmic dust. The village outside hunkers under June gloom, the