After Hours

The 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.

 

 

 

Reviews

[Angelic Darkness]

This poem was dark, and had a creepy, stalking feel about it.
I liked it:)