For as long as I can remember I have wanted to drive either a fire bird trans am or a mach1 mustang.In my fantasies they were both black, like rogue stallions,stallions that swept me away like white unicorns.
So why not. Why keep resisting the temptation right? right....
There she is. perfect for me. She is not black but white and she is convertible. She is a dream. As I got in i sunk into her leather seats, moulded to my body, I melt into her ,entwined, we were one. My fingers feel the icy keys as i clasp them, push them in and turn. Start.She purrs.
I drive away slowly, clutch in, clutch out, clutch me free, I drive faster , she roars, i howl as the wind rushes past my hair through my my mind, bare!
I slowdown and park by the sea, Oh to make love in this car... This care, could it be... I look around and everything fades, i fall to the ground and its just me, no purr of her engine or seat weaved upon me, no.
why this mustang of mine is so flawless,so dreamy is because it fits so perfectly in the palm of my hand, it fits in my pocket, I ride it with my fingers not my feet or my hands.
Be it a toy car, may it not be, either way its driven by me
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