
In the licked red lolly hallway
there's a door at the end
lurid carpet on the floor
built in suspense,
The first time that I saw her
was in that room
among the killers and the lovers
in their private booths.
With one foot on the leather she lounged
looking unimpressed and climbed
into my fantasies as the night undressed.
And sometimes I wonder
if you ever dream of me
and the next thing I knew I was sinking
into obsession,
love hid in each crease of your dress
as cigarette smoke climbed the stairwell
just north of your neck.
Screwdriver, backwards lettering
and the tell-tale glances televised
on the mirrored walls,
my heart is open plan Hollywood Hills
bungalow-esque,
but locked like our lips could be
is your love's caress,
my soul trapped in your shadow on the floor
part of the symbolic decor at Meta No.4
And sometimes I wonder
if you ever dream of me.