Love in an Elevator
Be young, be foolish, but not that foolish
Love in an Elevator
Hands pressed tight against the wall,
breathless whispers, bodies fall.
Numbers climb, the lights glow red,
heat between us, words unsaid.
Fingers trace, a reckless thrill,
caught between the want and will.
A silver chime, the doors resist,
lips collided in fevered bliss.
One more floor, one more sigh,
hands that tease, mouths that lie.
The world can wait, just one more taste,
before we rise, undone, erased.
About the Creator
Marie381Uk
I've been writing poetry since the age of fourteen. With pen in hand, I wander through realms unseen. The pen holds power; ink reveals hidden thoughts. A poet may speak truth or weave a tale. You decide. Let pen and ink capture your mind❤️
Keep reading
More stories from Marie381Uk and writers in Poets and other communities.
Rage
Content Warning: Domestic Violence, Assault Rage D. A. Ratliff “Who did this?” My voice echoed through the house. All I wanted was a cup of tea, but one of the twins, running through the house like maniacs, knocked it over. My nerves tingled, and every muscle in my body felt coiled like a spring. Survival seemed out of reach.
By D. A. Ratliff5 days ago in Fiction
Comments (2)
I believe a scene like this is portrayed in many romantic or romcom type movies. Good job.
Good 👌