Flirting

The danger to flirting is

its necessities, its many forms,

pages and being on the right one,

its strength to draw you in and hold

like a mother, like a runner looking

hard at the finish. Its adrenaline feed

fogs the brain causing poor eyesight,

poor judgement, creeping qualities,

a complete disconnect with outcome.

Not too careful in my observation along

the side of a three-lane highway,

a little shaken, she didn’t seem to mind

my intrusion into the back seat at 3am.

Not my Mustang but one I was racing.

Flirting with death is youthful and messy.

The driver and his buddy assessing

the damage to the car, almost oblique,

in hindsight I never read her eyes.

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