The map I have traced through recollection measures the distance between days blooming in metronomic succession while you push north along the indented line of the Pacific Highway passed Telegraph Point.
Have you crossed the border at Burleigh Heads? have you reached Bribie Island and the Glass House Mountains? or are you approaching Gimpy on the Bruce? Like the needle of a willful compass you point forward past Rainbow Beach past Tin Can Bay.
Over the Tropic of Capricorn 2400 miles of sheer will power behind a steering wheel of possibilities adventure is the tiger in the tank of direction while I write this hues of mango tinge my imagination and Ulysses butterflies surge from my bloodstream.
Like a halo the saline scent of the Ocean rolls towards me from a distance in waves of sunshine the rhythmic mass of the sea pounds its fluid heartbeat against the headland along the road snaking through cane fields coasting The Great Reef I see you in my mind's eye.
From my Melbourne room the car windows are lowered an old shirt is tied around your waist salty patterns dry on your limbs as you come to me in thought I sense the sun beating warmer closer upon me as I focus on the steering wheel of your orange car reflected in the mirror or your sunnies.
