dance with destiny

My car is crested with a salt layer that’s smooth and silky and makes it look dirty to everyone but me. The ocean’s mist at midnight is invisible and beyond my highbeams the waves crest and crash down upon broken rocks, debris and seaweed awashed on the sandy shore. I don’t hear the rhythmic tones riding the waves or the crickets chirp that seems infinite in its continuity. I just hear the sound of my own voice belting out my soul and saving me with the grace of an unknown god. Pent up emotions escape from my body as my foot sinks into the accelerator and I fly through space and time with the joy of a child thrown from their parent’s arms. I’m flying. But I will fall to a safe haven and at the crest of my accent, I see only the faces I love beaming at me. Bouncing back from the windows my voice echos in an embrace so strong that it holds my shoulders like a long absent friend in that first hug that you both ran towards. Bone crushing, skin tight and warmly jovial relief. The bass pounds with the same strength that the pacific uses when it beats upon the California coast line, and my mind is pulled by the rip tide into the music where I drown in sensation. Existence is a clean slate when on a date with yourself, any joke is acceptable, and despite any faults you know you’ll spend the night together. My car’s salty coat is smooth like satin, and is more elegant than any evening gown. And as I return home I savor it with my eyes, a reminder of the ball beneath the stars, the dance with destiny, and the freedom that brings out the best in me.