Fast flicking fingers catch the attention with gaudy flirtation, leaving the streets littered with cards. “Boom.” The canon and bass bounced from the deck of the ship carrying the muffled voices of the show siren through the crowd. Light from the Luxor’s capstone shown straight into the nighttime sky. Luminescent bulbs flood the streets bringing day to night.
Several counts above the Strip, he sat – partially covered in shadow – slumped in darkness. As abruptly, the silence was broken by the glow of electric blue. He opened his eyes, lifting his head from his palm. The hologram of red and green buttons raced up and over his face in the motion. Reaching out toward the table, he picked up his phone.
“Aren’t you all supposed to be out doing things that can’t be spoken of outside of Vegas?” She asked.
“Well, yea,” he laughed. “But I… I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”
“Funny thing,” she replied. “I’ve been thinking about you too.”
“What are you wearing?“ He asked.
“What are you wearing?” she replied coyly. Sitting in the warm glow of the light; It’s reach touching the slowly unfolding daffodils and tulips in the background of the unfocused lens. Their molecule escaping into the air; dusting the surface with their fragrance. She kept the secret of her smile, allowing the silence to occupy the topic of conversation.
“C’mon you know what I mean.” He replied.
“Okay, I’m just coming home from work,” she began. “I’m wearing my fitted corporate blue blouse with the pin-stripe navy skirt. I’m wearing those adorable pumps you bought me in Paris. You know the ones you spied, while we were walking after dinner one night? My hair is pulled back. Every piece of the essay expressing — control. I then reach for the door just as you enter…”
Feels like one of those nights
A warm and stormy night
Lightning partially lights the unseen
Soft rains rap gently against the windows,
while leaves are carried along in the arms of gusty winds
Pastel light warms the dark shadows,
That mimic our movements on the wall,
While April rains produce our romantic isolation
As the candlelight flickers,
It synchronizes with the erratic rhythm of our exhales
“I always love that look on you,” he responded. Settling back into the plush vanilla of the oversized sofa. The clock sitting over his left shoulder jumped in increments of minutes, then hours. With daybreak, the Sun raced along it’s course toward sunset. It’s atom replaced by the vibrance of the moon’s pale silver. The cycle replays itself over – speeding to daybreak, sunset, daybreak, then sunset again.
“Nice. And then what?” He asked.
“Now I’m in the hunter green, flower dress with straps you like so much. I’m wearing them with the gold ankle strapped heels. You always comment on how good my brown looks in this dress. I look over at the clock to see we’re cutting it close on time and I ask you to finish zipping me up…”
Feels like one of those nights
Darkness in-laid with ivory candles becomes my fantasy
Marble columns stand sentry
A mixture of sensual melody and quiet whispers teases the atmosphere of the room, accompanied by satin sheets and dark hues
The intent in the eyes still visible through the plumed mask
The cool touch of ice cream flows,
between supple breasts,
forming a custard sea,
while a lithe breeze caresses our body
Intensity of reality, how lovely
We sensuously kiss in an acoustical quiet storm,
while gentle hands slowly caress your form.
“Okay, okay,” he said with a relenting tone.
“What’s next?” He laughed.
“Well,” she paused. “I’m wearing…”
by malakhai jonezs
© Copyright 2016