A stretch convertible

 An inland town quite far from the coast
roads across that land like cords into a body
A tranquil lake reflecting a classic romantic sunny day
Age beside me, her long grey hair unfolding in the air
passing through the convertible

The patches of trees soaked up the dust of the road
as the car kicked down a gear to circle the lake
The hospital stretcher slowly broke the swinging doors
Like the bather on the coarse sand beach entering the water

The glow of the day would tranquilize a meth addict
The slow roll of the car endlessly moving and humming
simulating some meaning in it´s motion over road
A nurse curved over to offer death a little liquid
But death her blessed heart turned around and said
she didn´t believe in redemption

So we kept driving around that lake 
going so far, nowhere as no time passed
My grin seemed to merge with the tarmac lip of the road margin
melting that lip soft in the tangibly warm scintilating sun
beating it into a sweet bulge

Death often asks politely for a sacrifice
Positioning you conveniently next to the storehouse of your soul