Hotel Missus Poem by Merlin Mwaura

White shirt speck less,
Milan labels and starchy cuffs.
a mafia chief ardent behind a fog from his cigar,
cologne wisp an' whisper...
the missus readys the covers.
Belly groan as the heavy set meanders,
to lie down an' have a massage.

Sweaty overgrown back,
ointment oil smudge across black tattoos,
vivid bullet scars, and brawls with knifes.
while a missus kneads his tense flesh
Reed skirt and a Hawaiian flower,
gently form,
butter skin with a little tan,
hotel missus is Margarita.

deft fingers caress this mass,
a killer and monster as well as father,
to little Carlos an' a brat in the streets,
from once many missus's like margarita.

Hotel missus with fine pink lips,
marbled eyes of blue emeralds
accent from the Caribbean beaches
free spirit like the onshore winds.
warm velvet bosom, like the morning sun...
scent of her morning shower,
an' coconut shampoo.

Hotel missus...
tenders the tendons of the chief
to earn her bread an' little Diego,
like a soap opera an' glued sticks on the wall
hotel missus will make ten turn.
Ten to her curvaceous length,
Margarita I am looking at you.

I am my bosses trusted guard,
carry a gun an' a hunting knife...
I'll hunt you soon, hotel missus,
once you are done with my Chief's nooks,
Hotel missus don't be afraid to look,
am just as confused as you too.

Hotel missus...
readys a towel,
an' shall come from the closet soon,
but not until my lips have left hers,
Margarita is melting in mine,
I knew I liked this Hotel missus.