Hotel Siren

Hotel Siren

Pale and warm as driftwood, I lay
As though you had painted me there
With broken flowers in my hair
And you knelt like a child
Peaking shyly over the bath’s edge
Like a cracked door you had
Happened upon in a bout of
Lawless snooping, peering at
Some great secret, a coveted thing
That at once knotted your breath
And wet your tongue
So you crept closer,
Water stains crawled up your sleeves
Like rising tides and
Clawed at your shoulders
For a breathless embrace and
You gave your body to a clawfoot altar
Knowing gods love poets who
Die for a song.

Additional Reading

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©2017 Scarlett Sinclair. Designed by Black/Ash Consulting.