Cold. That was my first reaction.
My hands reached out for satin sheets
fell on crude sweaty cotton.
Stink of cheap filtered cigarettes
forced memory awake, as I fumbled at gaping buttons.
City lights feel like a stranger's hand
forced onto my touched skin. Contraband.
Restroom mirrors are always honest.
I loathe what you do, but shall not cry for you.
Ringless finger breathing
air damp and cold
after a hour of pleading
re-unites with gold
Weak conscious ashamed hurried I stride
dropping extra for the clerk in the lobby
who dutifully ignores me
..I hope he abhors me.
Who needs an excuse
when its trust that you abuse?
Home is where the heart is.
Home is where the start is.
Now on a soft bed,
playing along to please
a passion long dead.
.....
I awake and seek
cheap cigarettes that reek
sweat stained cotton sheet
bright lights with cruel intentions
Unfaithful you say?
Many thanks...
Now...
Fill in the blanks.
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