Motel Pools After 2

With bated breath,
I saw him stride over-
dangerously close I could tell
though my senses
were blurred
after one drink too many-
He knew I was waiting
and so did I.

Only the lonely find themselves
in motel pools after 2,
where empty beer bottles
and cigarette buds lay,
remnants of past visitors
who have come and gone.

We were strangers that night
in search of something,
anything- to forget,
to escape.

Nothing good ever happens
after 2am,
I would realise in the morning.

Day 21 prompt of #BecauseEverySummerIsStillWinter Instagram writing challenge by @kat.savage and @j.r.rogue

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