Black Beauty

Hot black galaxy leather interior
Knows how to harvest a zenith sun
Pink air-conditioned backside of knees
Soak in the radiation and I like it

Open palms caress a curved dashboard and
Pads of ten fingers press firmly down
As if there were any give to black beauty
Beside an exhalation and a sizzling purr

Not calibrating hydration
Glaring glass melts
Initial pleasure into pain
Like glue under a gun

Her chrome handles mock me
Go ahead and touch the flame
Lifting my shirt I wrap a lame hand
Push through fire onto griddled ground

Drained of desire, I shiver
Errant hairs cling to wet temples
Salt perches on blotchy lips
Thirsting for something blistering cold

Soooo, this is my Stephen King meets Brother’s Grimm account of how I absolutely loved crawling into my dad’s 1965 Pontiac GTO as a kid to feel the heat!  Warning: Don’t leave your child unattended
Four antonyms were employed here.  Did it leave you hot or cold?


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