Midnight Massage

After a night
At a hotel bar
Outside of O’Hare
A man from there
Who paid the fare
came back to my room.

Let’s watch a movie, he said.
Alright, I said.

My room had two beds.
I laid on one and said
You lay on the other.
How about instead,
He said, I lay with you.
That would be fine.

I had no idea then
What was in his head.
But now I think
What was in mine?

I turned on the television.
He started massaging my ankle.

Feels good doesn’t it? He said.

I told him it did.
So he didn’t stop
But after awhile
I told him no.
Should I go?  He said.
I said that was best.
And without a fuss
off he went.

What a strange moment,
As I shut the door.
I laid back down
In an empty room
The night was over
But not the movie,
Beaver Gets a Boner.

M.R. – 2011


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