head spinning

She is bedroom eyes and long legs, she is the biggest distraction staring at me from the passenger seat. There is rain and there are eyes on mine as my hand travels toward her. Crosses the space between us to her knee, her thigh, brushing the edge of her black skirt. And there are eyes. And there is rain. She is biting her lip. And I can’t focus on anything except how badly I want my teeth to be the ones on her mouth. And there are eyes on hers instead of the road. And there is rain. And my hand traveling up her leg as the car travels into the other lane. And I can’t stare at anything except her eyes and their yellow-green, as bright as the headlights coming toward us in the dark. We start to spin as a smile creeps on her face. And there are eyes, wide. And there is rain.