His thoughts, Unspoken

legs crossed eyes wild
looking around the room
looking for a good catch
she has a good bait,
someone nice should bite

lips painted pink, glimmering
under the pale shimmery light
eerie sheen, flickering
on painted faces full of hope
scouring the room for IT

Its like playing catch
or cat and mouse
a simple game of you are IT
clawed by coloured fingernails
stopping a leaving, short

dancing languidly on the floor
hips thrusting suggestively
wiggling, shuddering of flesh
succulent plums hanging pert
invitations galore...oh yes

he smells hot pheromones
as he leaves the pub
stands in the shadows
waiting for the first bait
he will get many bites tonight.