motorcycle

Her arms around his waist,
her chin bouncing on his back,
her teeth chattering at rough spots,
her fingertips dangling at his crotch
riding on his dirt bike is their affair.
They synch their balance in the turns,
and hold their faces towards the sun,
they are creatures of the summer air.
When he drops her off with her hair
wind-blown and her cheeks reddened
her friends gawk as if it is
obvious that they have just had hot sex,
and she smiles and looks away.
His bike is freedom on her face;
it is hot coals burning on her skin.
She is the chick on the back of his ride.
Whatever anyone thinks about that
is just as they imagined.