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Strangers
Yesterday while driving home I fell in love with the arm of the driver in front of me. Man or woman I was not sure. It did not matter, though later I would lean more towards thinking it male.
It languished outside its window...Was it waving at me, making long left turn warnings, or just enjoying the breeze I do not know. It made gestures, rested, lounged on the side and top of the car.
It was beautiful, sensual, mysterious.
We travelled together for quite a while, the arm and I. At some time I felt the gaze of the arm's owner in their rear view mirror, then in the side mirror...seeking me.
It made me shy and self-conscious, I may have blushed, I turned towards sky and trees to avoid its burning.
We travelled in a strange bubble of sensuality, enveloping two cars on a road. This fact I refused to confirm to those eyes which seemed to ask over and over 'Is it not so?'.
Instead I kept my eyes vague and soft, moved my lips around the words to the song I was singing along to (did it look like I was speaking?), gave the arm one last warm caress and turned right.
It languished outside its window...Was it waving at me, making long left turn warnings, or just enjoying the breeze I do not know. It made gestures, rested, lounged on the side and top of the car.
It was beautiful, sensual, mysterious.
We travelled together for quite a while, the arm and I. At some time I felt the gaze of the arm's owner in their rear view mirror, then in the side mirror...seeking me.
It made me shy and self-conscious, I may have blushed, I turned towards sky and trees to avoid its burning.
We travelled in a strange bubble of sensuality, enveloping two cars on a road. This fact I refused to confirm to those eyes which seemed to ask over and over 'Is it not so?'.
Instead I kept my eyes vague and soft, moved my lips around the words to the song I was singing along to (did it look like I was speaking?), gave the arm one last warm caress and turned right.
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