This morning your smile and your figure stole my eyes from the road, your laugh and your whisper stole my ears from the radio. Only potential death and imminent destruction snatched my senses from joyous past to swerving present. Only the fearful curve of the road brought my hands from the future caress of yours. and my fear felt all the same.

My lips held more than your skin, I tasted you beneath the surface, I smelled more than your clean smooth scent. I inhaled something spiritual and intoxicating, I swallowed something sensual and ethereal. A vintage unfamiliar, a drunk not love-punched, a buzz without birds and bees. Crazy driven crazy driving.

No wonder my hands held your hips instead of the wheel, my eyes sought your beauty locked behind them instead of the drive ahead, your hands against my chest sent my heart racing as well as my car.

My poetic heart will be the death of me.