Driving far for a thousand miles
Feeling like loving juveniles
I look at him as he smiles
Not minding our windblown hairstyles.
Now that the day nears its end
And we’ve reached the bridge’s bend,
He stops and speaks in silence
Our eyes meet, making sense.
All those posts with dim lights
I watch their glimmer in his eyes
As passion comes to arise
Hands now on my thighs.