underneath a charcoal sky i grip the steering wheel with my bare hands, sometimes i have gloves on but not tonight. the flickering lights, i leave those behind and feel the tires hit the dirt road, yes i go down the the narrow dirt road with it's dangerous curves i like it. mozart, toby or porteus head blaring while i take those curves flanked by giant trees like it is my only vice, i am heading towards you. you will have your hands on my neck, then my lower back and waist, your going to heal remember, you say. driving i stop at the cafe order my coffee it is quiet at this time, the cafe unrecognizable at this time, i like it this way. back in my car now i have stopped the music, listening to npr now, they teach me things, they open my eyes. I park my car now in front of me it feels like a paris window and door covered with ivy i think to myself should i open another store, no. I go in now there you are your hands holding a pen soon they will be holding me and i will not like it as much as you like, your the one that gets paid not me, you pull me near then crack. i hate the crack. i hate all of it well maybe not the heated blanket you lay on top of me and the relaxing sounds coming out of the speakers.
i am back in the car now, i am freezing, i mean my teeth are chattering how in ten minutes did i leave new england for yukon. i take a sip, adjust the radio, drive thinking how i wish all of it was longer. my tires hit the dirt road again my mind hits the clouds and i go for it as if it is my last ride i drive fast on this dirt road, the one they warned me about, i am always getting warned about something.
