Aftermath

I can imagine us on your motorcycle
A thought I've never had before
A gidget and her rugged Ken
Beach blanket bingo gone before
Just the sun and the road
Highway #1
No more Lolita eyes
trapped inside the fantasy
All grown up, maybe 16
I've taken to you wanting me.
Stopped the act at 17
Grown past the angst of 18-19
The indifference of 20 and cautious power of 21
And promptly regressed into mature young lady-dom
Still coquette, with a bandanna
in my hair
But something like that '50s flair
I wonder whether refurbished
wreckage still rusts in salty air

9/26