Room 373A Poem by andrew mitchell
Room 373.
The elevator opens lust, the third floor, room 373 awaits ready, for action. Perfume, laughter echoes down corridors lit, fumbling keys rattle nervously, a door handle creaks. Giggling on entry two women, a man stagger on cocktails; consumed twilight bliss. Stories hang on wall paint peeling, Giggles on whispers blushing meet. Words tumble on high heels flat, lips swirl on carousel mouths. Inhibitions undressed, clothing on the floor laced, like autumn leaves....... fall. Anticipation opens.... behind closed doors, hips sway, no bedroom manners You know the score! Who said........ three's a crowd!
© 2016 andrew mitchellReviews
|
Stats
145 Views
4 Reviews Added on February 21, 2016 Last Updated on February 21, 2016 Authorandrew mitchelladelaide, AustraliaAboutStrindberg said. " When I come home and sit at my writing table, then I live.... I live, and I live in manifold fashion of all human beings. I depict; I am glad with the glad, wicked with the wicked,.. more.. |

Flag Writing