Ménage À Trois (Alone In a Hotel Room At 1 Am)
Thin walls reveal, too well,
the aspirations of my neighbors.
Quiet moans mingle
with the drone of TV,
a strange mélange of real
and imagined eroticism.
As their headboard
bangs a jumbled tattoo,
I join them, gasping
like a hooked carp at our shared
moment of completion.
I wonder if they
search for a tissue,
too.
Copyright © Sander Wolff | Year Posted 2007
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment