Empty Hotel

There is a hotel in which I stayed, often, whilst visiting…
It is clean, but dark. Anonymous in a busy kind of way! The people who work there are uninterested, in a curious kind of way
The rooms are small and intimate – close to the adjoining one, yet far away!
Sound travels but falls on deaf ears
The carpets tell stories though are vacuumed every day
The stair is almost a spiral, ascending in a descending kind of way
Each door, onto a level, completes a journey… yet one is aware of walking through a door
The corridor fascinates.  Empty, yet, the possibilities leave one sleepless – as does the night!
It is the anonymity which attracts
It is silent, so any voice ‘hits’.  Like the sound of a coin – falling, striking, then dancing on the floor
There are no defining smells I can recall.  The sterility, I suppose, is another opportunity to explore… curiosity didn’t ever kill one who was wise!
And touch is something which passes you by
That handrail which supports as you ascend/descend… Jacob’s ladder!
Want leads you to a crossroads.  Want is a corridor which fascinates
Want is an empty space to be filled by the imagination
Want leads to a place un-imaginable… immediate, visceral, selfish, shared, needy
Unspoken, yet shouted

Transgressive

Our thoughts are so private and sex… personal
And the room?

There are scars on the walls.