I don't want no more

Texture's smooth.
Temperature, warm.
Barely lit the ceiling.
Smell's perfume...
flavour, dull.
Careful planning but,
chains beneath the wheels:

Dampness forced

by both sides.

Yet, the warmth.

I waited and waited -

for this -

Oh, what a deceit!

If I had known,

I'd (still) keep on waiting for

that red Swiss clock.

~