The old man glances through his window. Through slats awry in seduction's haste, candlelight strobes on sweat-glistened bodies. He watches, transfixed, images through the blinds, eyes too frozen to obey. (Turn your head, go to bed!) Two bodies loving unaware of images through the blinds. He watches, aroused, passion rising in two rooms now. A goddess bend over a sofa, Adonis behind in the flickering light. A conqueror, a conquest. Memories of his own lust rekindle and burn in his elderly mind and he smiles. Bittersweet images through the blinds, and he smiles.
Reason for writing:
Why slats awry in seduction's haste, of course!
Birth sign: Not entered
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