Friday, December 17, 2004

The Hotel, Revisited, On The Night

A noisy lobby, a junket of humanity
exposing the truth about superficiality;
darkness and light, red and black, parquet mica tile,
elevators, strides without hesitation.

Warmth, arms, silly refrains,
superstitions, perfume, lips and hair.
Our night beginning, our life in play,
purple mountains majesties in china, ecru and taupe.

A basketball court, a party of ten,
white gloves and candles burning,
eyes and laughs and hands and velvet
the burning embers of a flame unextinguished.

These days and nights I won't forget,
my captain's mate through the ebullient sea
the rough the placid the lit the muted
the hours which find me pacing, pensive,
soaking in the warmth through the freezing outer chill.

Arrival and departure, the trip has no end
and its mile markers are smiles, friends, and silent promises
which are kept and shared between glances, touches and kisses
a natural give and take and give and share of a map
that no longer needs study nor review.

The elevator door is open.

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