After HoursA Poem by Yira SimoneThe things that happen behind close curtains..."No time like the present" he thought as he gazed upon her undressed body.
Even in the silence that screamed for recognition, His heart palpitated. A brisk thud in the hollow corners of one soul seeking another.
Her lips were pursed, a faded pomegranate red. She uttered no words... what was left to say?
Her hazel eyes were closed. They hid behind a dark curtain, revealing nothing as he stood questioningly before her nakedness.
Her ivory skin paled in the city lights, like a firefly in New York city. A dim form of luminescence.
Her perfume lingered in the room, loosening the knots in his clenched stomach, a mix of butterflies and warm beer.
Who was this woman really?
"No time like the present" he thought as he began the process of making her lifeless body appear "fresh" in the wake of death.
© 2008 Yira SimoneReviews
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Added on March 29, 2008Last Updated on March 29, 2008 AuthorYira SimoneWriter's Cafe...address pending, CAAboutHello Everyone!!! I completed my studies at UC Davis. I majored in English and Medieval Studies (Yes, I know a little Middle English). I am with the same man, and to our family we added a black cat.. more..Writing
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