Your lips caress the inches from one bend to another; tickling my skin as you travel the lines. My fingers breeze through your hair, every strand curving between my grip. You move recklessly, clinging to the curves as you race. Adrenaline pushes us to travel faster and faster. A mist veils the curves as we slip and careen. The race ends suddenly, a crash of souls that tumbles across the finish line. Your fingers glide along the curves, tracing every move.