Her

No idea what I was thinking at the time I wrote this.

Her heart (she wears on her sleeve)
Is slowly beating
And calling out to me.

Her breast rises and falls
In her dream-like state
She will not know its over
Until it is too late.

Her breath smells of mint
Her skin, of cheap perfume
And other scents are cloying
Inside the small hotel room.

The pink panties that she wears
Are worn threadbare
Her bra, lays over in the arm chair.

My hand creeps up,
And touches her throat,
Wanting to choke
But instead I caress

I think I’ll save her
For tomorrow night
And for now
Let her rest.

Reviews

[~LeeAnn~]

This is so good!!!!