And since I'm roaring down the highway,
Resting my long arms up on
Two fiery horns that serve as handles,
I figure must be a demon motorcycle.
I feel the surge of immortal power
Roar between my legs.
It scares me,
Because it's untapped
And untamable.
Then I remember that I'm dreaming.
I pull out hard
Onto the freeway,
Flames--painted ones,
Real and imagined
Scorch and burn as my wake.
Then I think that it's much better
To identify myself
By my dreams,
And not by what I really am,
Or what I really do.
-jenn
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