Hotel Rooms

Sun, 11/06/2016 - 17:07 -- jxxh

Breath that smelled of kahlua and cigarettes,

his bright eyes, and soft flesh,

fingertips twirling in strands of thick hair,

exhales soft, growing with sleep,

bodys tangled between hotel sheets,

eyes closing slowly,

brown and blue, mixing galaxies,

this is love,

in the mind of another pretty face.

This poem is about: 
Our world

Comments

Need to talk?

If you ever need help or support, we trust CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741