L'Hotel Pour L'Amour

Corridors, dark and damp just under the surface, are where vacant infatuations are filled.
Where poetic worthy exploits run rampant,
Raging under the tired noses of worn out husbands and wives.

The wandering strangers of the night
Find new valentines in musty, old hallways and dance a dizzying step that makes the mind numb.
Abandon bottles by the dozen to make the heart grow fonder;
Drown that little voice.

They escape laughing and eager,
Through these corridors to bedrooms and bedrooms that are not their own
Making motion in the night.

Forging new bonds of union with the remains of old ones.
So, oh my little l’hotel pour l’amour, keep the welcome mat swept and the cellars full of wine,
Because women and men are weak in the knees for a romance dark and damp,
Full of consequence.
And we are ever ready to be so accommodating at a new price.

A/N: Just a little blurb I've put together on a mental image I had. Nothing special. Let me know what you think. Cheers.