Ode to 20-Something Hunk On a Kawasaki

Ode to a 20-Something Hunk on a Kawasaki

First I hear him loud and laboring
resonating with a clashing fury
then I feel a stellar heat as he comes from behind
pulse racing, face flushed
he is both contemptuous and ‘cum’bustible
Someone find me a stethoscope 
How I want to listen in on him

We cling to the same elemental atoms
yet his nucleus proves the Dalton theory
He reeks of inner core and magma
I, of simple biosphere
He, a vector in blue jeans and tight T-shirt
of sunwhipped hair blowing free of gravity
his body hard, sinuous reeking of youth and brine 
How I want to taste him

This alluring cowboy atop polished chrome bronco
defies a Narcissus fate while gazing into his mirrors
I watch, reconnoiter, my surveillance from behind gray tint
even as we stop, his energies surge 
he revs the engine, taps his foot, fingers massage the handlebars
terrestrial magnetism in finest detail-
How I want to feel his friction

And then the light’s green and off he charges
with the impatience of someone with life yet to conquer
with the embodiment of everything incendiary and aroused
spirited away by something errant and fevered that flows deep within
of fire ignited, oh luxurious flame of fantasy
and burnt flame of brash bereavement left behind
oh, to step away from the confines of age and convention
to step away from this contained vehicle and dream 
How I want to mount that bike and melt into him...