Stock

A hand brushes over the dashboard

Rough texture inside out

Faux leather appeal, superficial and real

Too many scents of varying fragrance

The pleasant aromas go undetected

Stopping short of their intention

The wheel is wrapped in a similar skin

Broken patterns alternate

From wrist to thumb, to wrist again,

Almost ready to depart, just one more thing,

Teeth dangle from the palm, scraping softly on the ring,

Upon ignition piston’s fire, chirping lights to spawn desire,

 Anticipation’s ablaze within, balanced by learned patience,

The glass, washed and cleaned, tempered finite,

Strange reflection from it gleams

 A nick in the glass, a crack to the shield,

 A stressor is discerned,

 The unfamiliar in a pristine world,

A pebble, so gray and small, its spider web rippling out,

The tiniest of blemishes loom, casting doubt, what to do,

 Stock emotions, overwhelming and severe,

A juxtaposition of uncertainty and fear