he drive me wild with the roar of a motorcycle that awaits like a phantom outside my door. like the music it can't quite be contained or held tight. i try as we wind in and out of emotional canyons of the los angeles hills but i never seem to hold tight enough to quell the fear of falling off. with motorcycle boots, tattoos, cigarette fused dreams, late night stolen kisses and the spiritual connected music of our favorite band, this man wild as enkidu captured my locked heart when i wasn't looking. in my mind his presence, my lover, is seared and fused with motorcycles, music, and lyrical rants. they mediate his transcendent love to my empty bed. i want to be his baby like the music and the motorcycles. capture and turn his head like the roar of triumphs and "half-state's" opening chords, to run across his tired mind as it slips down the well of long lost sleep. he is my wild man of the midwestern shores.