Wait No More

A poem (with hot content warning)

I get off
I get off
this train that arrives
to a new station
and I don't know
what's here
but I trust
I've arrived
where I need to be;

I get off
I get off
on the thrum of a motor
between my legs,
oh, to grab some throttle
and shoot through space—
I am a bird
flying over bridges
standing, elated!

I get off
I get off
on the speed of passage
of trains, 
of motorcycles, of
peregrine falcons
that soar in my mind,
uncaged and wild
seeking more, more —

I get off
I get off
from a thumb wedged
deep in my sex
and fingers pressing
on my core, 
lips on my breast, 
hot, hotter, faster,
coming now, releasing...

I won't get off
I won't get off
this ride that slows
to a stop again
ready to shed me
and the rest of the crowd;
no, I will just board again,
seeking the thrill
of travel, of flight,
of total abandonment. 
  

---

Author’s Note: This poem was written on January 13, 2014. I still pursue that sense of total abandon in many pursuits….