Ding Dong; Sweet Music Poem by Denny Moonde

In the dark of the motel.
No words spoken.
A cocktail in the making
The card game,
Has no regard
For the emotive guard.
How travel two this path?
No care for a dime
Chime of the clock distant
Sensual breathes
and then, time.
Oh! Time stands still
Their souls in mime
to the physical desire.
What crime!
Their bodies,
not meant twine.
Fingers in vacillating motion.
Manipulation of creation.
Despicable commotion
of hearts.
And when covered;
The sheets a wave movement
Alas the ocean sleeps.
But beneath
Confusion in near eruption
Err, travel not this road
She knew twas wrong
He played along.
Ding dong.