Crave
It is raining again. Slow and steady. Tiny drops from above collecting in shimmering pools of life.
I crave
…summer’s warm caress.
I crave
…naked horsepower and violence.
…restraint and flow.
I crave
…leaning into a corner on Mt St Helen’s southern approach.
…infrared heat soaking into my leathers.
…muscle memory and grinding ceramics on tarmac.
I crave
…hyper-focus and disconnection.
…asphalt ribbons and sky.
…fuel vapor and pine needles.
…to be lost and found.
I crave
…my lover’s smile when I return.
I crave.
