Hotel Menu

Cheeks licked by breath of fan
Ears pecked by chirping midnight traffic
Half wide eyes slurp
from walls and windows
Dull strawberry curtains bubble up
like frothing on a milkshake
The blank black screen
a slice of dark chocolate
placed delicately on the edge of caramel topping
in lacquered timber

But alas
I am not dining tonight
Here I lie
the meat uneaten
upon my polygon plate complemented by a side dish
Pastel peppermint arm chair
very early 60s
clashes with an awkward portrait of off white tulips
to make for a futile garnish

No music or candles
just the scatter of unwanted guests
My only familiar company vaguely peering back
through Mercury
as its silver goatee drips into a basin
in the dim lit room

And the fan licks my cheeks
as I exit to a galaxy of sleep