(Peace.  It didn’t take long for inspiration to find me today.  I don’t have an eloquent reason for that.  I just wrote.  Bruce Springsteen makes the theme for Day 137…)

Then the lights go out, and it’s just the three of us: you, me, and the stuff we’re so scared of.  Gonna ride down, baby, into this tunnel of love…

She wants to take him on a ride
In hopes this attraction will do what it’s rumored to do
Make love
Turn whatever feelings he has into love.

He’s a lover of rollercoasters
She is the apprehensive thrill seeker
Afraid of the speed
The constant spikes and dips
But can always be persuaded to get on the next ride
She knows the drop is coming
She can even see it while at the peak.
But to her
Staying that might means the ride has broken down

But this will be different
There aren’t any loops
Or sudden twists and turns
This is the kind of ride she was made for
Making love
Temporary moments inside her should change his heart

But he knows
And she doesn’t know
That though this isn’t the adrenaline rush those fast-paced rides are
Though this ride doesn’t feed the excitement of fear
The ease of which can enjoy the ride
Still means it’s an object of his amusement.