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.

​