A love letter to the infernal combustion engine
She flew.
Though not on wings.
Crouched astride a gleaming machine, she flew with gasoline.
Flew between lumbering bubbles of steel. Just so many birdcages. And one hawk soaring among them.
They meandered to destinations unknown. While she flew, destination undetermined. Destination unimportant.
She flew, and she screamed.
She howled into the night. A fierce sound of primal anguish. Impaled with emotion. A beast of passion and turmoil, barely contained.
The engine roared in riposte. A harsh gravelly rumble that was felt more than heard. A beast of flame and steel, barely contained.
She screamed to vent her choked heart.
Offered herself at the feet of the fire before she was burnt up.
Offered herself to the grinding asphalt before she was scoured away.
Offered herself into the fierce wind before she was blown apart.
Screamed into the wind and rain, the fire and darkness. Screamed and let her voice be lost in the noise. Screamed in liberation from strangling feeling.
The engine screamed with her for it knew no else.
They screamed to live.
Originally intended to be a piece for Scene and Heard’s ‘Highlights’ submission call. It now doesn’t know quite what it wants to be. Regardless I shall set it free.
