Pass (Charm Poem)

I slide myself to the edge of my couch
fists squeezed
eyes focused on the bright TV screen
every bated breath edging your
shining, silver Mercedes racecar
another inch closer to the one ahead
every tensed muscle pumping the pistons faster
my furrowed brow
guiding your steering wheel
and holding the pedal to the metal
until you have passed
the bright red Ferrari
in a flurry of sparks and a roar of the engine