Storm

They lower themselves into the seats
Slowly, hands light on the steering wheels.
No seat belts.
No fetters, no shackles.

And as the ringing fades, the music starts.
The purr of the engines begins, a loud
Whirr, even with the thump of the music
In the background. Hypnotic, rhythmic.

Heartbeats quicken as the first prey approach;
Two pairs of eyes meet across the room
In secret acknowledgement,
Caught in the moment.

The intricate dance begins. The slow
Depressing of the pedal – all the way down. CRA—
SH. The perfect spot at the side. And the
Victim, baffled by her as she breezes on.

Savour the power, the exhilaration.
They circle, and the space between them
Seems to be so little, that they can reach out
To touch – fingertip to fingertip.

The distraction, just that instant,
Allows someone to break into her Circle.
She tilts her head back, a look of ecstasy on her face,
As she tastes the shock, the aftermath of reverberations.

Then she wheels around,
Passion, fire, strength, a burning cloud
To scorch the unfortunate hunter
Turned hunted; his fear is in his eyes.

The music gets louder,
Hot fire slipping through their veins.
He licks his lips as he corners the next victim.
Soon, they will meet. Soon.

A refusal for any contact
Only heightens the awareness
Of each other. As he notices,
And she realises.

Their expressions of concentration,
As they cruise, formidable pyres.
Then a clear ringing, the music fades.
The cars grind to a halt.

She extricates herself gracefully from her seat.
Calm, composed, perfectly poised.
At the other end, he gets up
And follows, an indefinable something in his eyes.

Just think of what’ll happen. Deep breath in.
Can you smell it?
An electrical crackle in the air.
The storm is approaching.

After all,
All that energy has to go
Somewhere.