There is a slight resistance
As I turn the key in the ignition.
The engine comes to life with a roar
That reverberates through the drive-shaft
into my palm.
I let my foot off the creaking clutch
propelling the vehicle home.
As each shift slips between gears,
My mind flirts with the titillating temptation
To loose the clutch.
I feel the engine lurch as it stalls,
Only to realize it is my own heart
Nervously skipping a beat.
As I move into fifth gear,
My hand is only inches away.
Lacking self-control, I steal a glance.
Incapable of resisting her slender legs,
My eyes traverse her elegant figure,
The subtle flow of her body’s contours
Guiding my eyes like a map.
My eyes, full of hope, return to the road,
But it was only the dying head lights
Of some rusted big-rig rumbling our way.
I’ve never found myself so desperate
To catch every red light.
Anything for one more moment
With her by my side
Admiring her jet-black hair
And the way it gently falls around her neck,
Coiling and twisting like a snake,
Coming to rest upon her chest.
What I wouldn’t give
For my own chest to be that
Upon which her beautiful hair lies.
I somberly slow the car to a stop
And stammer a farewell while biting my tongue.
Our embrace could never be long enough.
She turns and opens the passenger door,
Yet lingers a moment more before leaving.