I proceeded upstairs

I proceed upstairs on a red velvet stairs,
preceded by suntuous step,
muffled in heavy draperies,
like the dreams of an eunuch.

The exchange was not metal, was stones,
the landlord style,
 - when one fancies oneself to be in command,
surrender is sweeter -
this is not a night for water,
sweat like olive oil more like.

The days of the slave trade
did not really get consigned to the past, as
our tutelage now is GM seeds and guns,
and the technologies that ate all the lost roads,
but bah, the concubinage is not the same as it
used to be in the opium days
(glory left here).

I proceeded upstairs, heady with spices
and craving the security of guarded indoors.
Pleasures like those meant for those
who already have nothing to prove to themselves
or to a world that is little more
than a self-serving hungry beast.

The walls, dark and smoked (this was before
all the prohibitions,
and when health was not really that popular),
told so many stories that it made them more interesting
that the average dud drink buddy.

I think I will pass some time here,
days for nights and nights for months.
One life at a time.