Night Rider

A long line of red ants stretches before us following the unseen trail toward food, shelter

Curves and hills are revealed in bands 20 feet wide, 20 feet across

There is no sound but the rushing whir of wind, of blessed air, of speed

A dance of steel and flesh, of power coursing through tubes, through veins

Racing through blackness my hands find your waist, your hips

There is no need to hold tightly the trust keeps us balanced, moving

My feet rest on the pegs my body settles into my bones

For a moment, the world falls away and I rest, in my skin, against you.