Café 606
by Ioana Draghici


In the sleepless hour when hunger begins to roam
With all senses heightened by its waiting prey,
With eyes wide open rising underneath pale skin
To release its urges inside your feminine display.

Fervor throbs encased within the rhythm of now,
All thoughts reduce themselves into a bodily scheme;
Where mind wants to taste and mouth fights with haste                 
And all senses drip to surface through a white bloodstream.

I chase you blindly, like a weak remain
Of what was once the silent strength of reason’s call
I am vicious and tear through all restraint
In the cold, white light of a dirty, little stall.

Ignoring the sounds of walkers-by and running sinks,
I push aside the white cotton lining my desire -
Your face pressed against the scribbles, my face against your hair,
Your screams of violation are muffled by the hand-dryer.

Breath begins to heighten with the resonance of sound,
Our shadows dance on plastic walls in tribal scenes -
Clichéd and naked we stand on tiled ground,
With the mysterious beauty of foreign magazines.
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