The hotel fell asleep underneath
the stars' tranquilizing lullaby, as if
the sun couldn't fit off the glistening
serene voices of the stars, and turned
off its light—putting earth into a less
intense fight against the lullaby.
A soft burgundy red decorated the halls
of the hotel, from the corners of the walls
to the soft rug tickling the soles of our shoes.
My fingertips gently felt the exquisite
designs and edges that the architect
engraved into the walls of the hotel. The
very edge of the hallway had a grand elevator
with intricate crystals adorning the sides, telling
you which level you're on.
Charlie tip-toed as if he was the Pink
Panther, ever so innocent.
"Oh, Charlie," I held in a chuckle and
only received a sly glare from him.
"If-If we get caught, y-you're so dead."
He snapped at me.
"Sh," I whispered as I pressed the
button to the hallway that would take
us to the roof.
YOU ARE READING
shades of red
Poetrywhen you have too many thorns, all you can do is paint them in red, because, maybe then, they will look like petals [sequel to shades of blue]
