Another bite at the cherry

My old Nissan
its shine, with years , dulled, fading fast
its blotchy skin.
When was it polished last
and catch a glint.
 Hanging from the mirror
 a car vent that looks just like Tom Jones.
Dream; the apple Adam held,
the need to taste forbidden fruit.
With evil pride his ego swelled
I thought that I was in a hurry
the radio was playing Brian Ferry.
Addicted to love, vain hopes anthem
and one on one, be the sum.
In expectation longer dwell,
like children playing hide and seek
look round the corner take a peep.
Wistfulness for mistletoe its pheromones
the erogeny , a kiss on tippy toes.
 Eyes that winked each innuendo.
Finding some old sherbet sweet
 pushed under the passengers seat.
The old jalopy near collapse
looking forward never back.
The vanity mirror not lying flat.
Tempus fugit, a need to worry
my needs, another bite at the cherry