A Fast Kind of Loving

We lived on the edge of a window, a high perch above a city on wheels - we did not rush with it, we watched. The sex was a drive through a Theme Park, it was not serious; it was not deadly. Sometimes it was torture in a fun house, it was manic, on occasion, clownish, never dull, always surprisingly restful, however love was not a dish we shared. The years have raced away on their long directionless speedways, but there are no curled-up regrets strewn across the highways like roadkill. I figured you were now happy to be not with me, I was with you, likewise and those youthful sex games have been refined, improved as other stories with other partners, then gratefully left at the side of a road for a love tramp to find.