By Moonlight

They woke me at midnight, whispers

that lured me

into my slippers and down the hall
to the drawing room.

They wanted loose.

Slipped off me like silk.
Shivered, shimmered, shimmied

down my legs, craved

a little freedom.

They had me against the desk.

There was no holding back, shouts

and moans that made themselves heard

in apartment eight above us, number two

next door.

Pens and paper tumbling onto the floor

left scratch marks on my skin,

my hair done up in tangles.

It was a fit of passion, words that plummeted, plunged,

danced their way from line to line, the edges

of their lips hot against my thighs,

laced themselves between my fingers and my toes.

Naked on the hardwood floor, arched my back

against the roar

of stanzas, ballads, elegies crashing

down around me.

Shook the chandelier.