THeRaVeToY
Bluelighter
Vinyl sits snug across shoulders covering wrists half zipped, while jeans from the Gap I never fell into in high school stretch along legs; hems riding up to reveal my leather-clad ankles. Rubber hard against chrome-plated footrest, heels press—an arch already melted in, scarring the sole from a slip-and-rest on a smoking hot exhaust pipe. Naked head sunglasses clad smiles into jacket-covered shoulder; arms and legs press and pull me in to father’s flesh as metal rumbles and flies beneath us. Flames ghosted, chrome gleams under streetlights flashing by and fading into a distance. Arm outflung, swinging left we avoid the highway, preferring hills and curves to five lanes. Downshifting to second, revving engine surging ahead I clasp harder; moving hands from ribs to circle waist, pressing into an ungiving back—denim slides over black leather.
Back and I meet unforgiving asphalt.
Forward and taut vinyl meets Kevlar reinforced leather snug against the man who holds in his hands (and created) my existence.
Forgetting myself and all of life’s little problems as pavement rushes by, exposed to skin’s protection easily scraped away by a careless moment, I am made to enjoy every breath. Leaves flash by in fire-colors, littering the ground. They swirl as we race past, lifting to circle and dance with each other in the turbulence of our wake. When the leaves rise up in masses that threaten to obscure road ahead or below, our time will be over. Staring down the blade that will clip our wings, breathless and tingling-numb with cold beauty and wonder, I cling to freedom as long as I can handle it.
Back and I meet unforgiving asphalt.
Forward and taut vinyl meets Kevlar reinforced leather snug against the man who holds in his hands (and created) my existence.
Forgetting myself and all of life’s little problems as pavement rushes by, exposed to skin’s protection easily scraped away by a careless moment, I am made to enjoy every breath. Leaves flash by in fire-colors, littering the ground. They swirl as we race past, lifting to circle and dance with each other in the turbulence of our wake. When the leaves rise up in masses that threaten to obscure road ahead or below, our time will be over. Staring down the blade that will clip our wings, breathless and tingling-numb with cold beauty and wonder, I cling to freedom as long as I can handle it.
