Member-only story
Room No. 103
Room serviced tap water in room temperature, she didn't seem to favor my kind offer, this foreign woman, left of the second office chair: “are we going to do any work, any time soon?”
Unflavored air, came out of the imaginary fan, with thoughts of: “life is short, just yet, my patience is shorter.”
It’s fun to rhyme words with an R, also to stand carelessly in the middle of the room, like an unf*cked arrrrrr and my foot I promise my foot, led the lady to the balcony, the nonexisting one, in this cubical office city life dot, many coffees, many hookups, and I am just trying to be her friend, can’t you see? this gentle torture, the art of seduction to pull the strings of our desire to be desired, and poetry didn’t f*ck a thing, but itself.
Left unread to compost in the pages of yesterday.
All my troubles seem so close today.
Why, she, had to go I don’t know
She wouldn’t say…
