The ride

i wait for the lightning
to strike me as i walk
lobby for our rendezvous


but nothing; you are there
appointed time, waiting for me
my legs didn't protest too as


we ride rented convertible
dark tinted windows, smooth
sailing, no one stopping us


no questions asked, we
both know where we are
going, loot stashed in boot


as you close the door, and start
kissing me, i thought the suite will go up
in flames, like in Hell (a fable I was told)


but nothing; so we continue stroking,
grabbing as much skin, hair as we
can for now, until next three hours


skewtering sweet words until
we are riding along waves  
built on a stack of playing cards


real or imagined cues, we brew
until smoke fills feathery suite, stinging
my eyes could not tell anymore


if tic on your left cheek is for real
or just a figment of my imagination.


are you giving me another ride?

Posted for The Gooseberry Garden:   Poetry Picnic:   Feathers, Fidelity, Figment, Fables 
and D'verse Poets Pub - OpenLinkNight - Every Tuesday at 3 pm
and The imaginary garden with real toads - OpenLinkNight - Monday 


This is my roundabout way of talking about choices and honesty using the prompts from The Gooseberry Garden.    


picture credit:  gildam.tumblr.com