National Poetry Month’s Poem-A-Day 30-Day Challenge: Day 3
CARBURETOR
Whenever our paths happen
to cross by chance, my heart
starts in a quick stutter,
ineluctably revving up
like a stock car engine.
She is air, a whole sky of it,
mixing with a precision fuel in me
that burns under a run-away throttle,
sending me scurrying,
head in a whirl-spin, legs in a wobble.