Future~

the clown asks the crowd, turning around is everything she needs. gentle fingers intertwine, sitting closely on a bench. desire to ask several random questions are near. 
bass lines echo from a far, a clear view of a chocolate-cake guitar. a black gown appears in sight, with a shy smile. 
"we're goin fast" - the lack of care is present, wanting the car to speed up further. inviting thou to stand beside me when Mercury gets too nervous. 
once freaked out by the future, excitement turns a new leaf with question marks on our wrists.