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the art of persuasion.

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Below is the poem entitled the art of persuasion. which was written by poet Tamiviolet Manchas. Please feel free to comment on this poem. However, please remember, PoetrySoup is a place of encouragement and growth.

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the art of persuasion.

She and the handsome gentleman finalized the contract, and he gently placed 
the antique pearl necklace into the palm of her tiny hand.  As he walked away,
she fantasized about making love with him, for he possessed both charm and 
exceptional good looks; he certainly was enchanting...thick, black wavy hair,grey-
green eyes...tall...muscular ~ oh, those muscles...all over his tanned body...head
to toe.

But she wondered about that limp as he walked away, depending on a heavy 
metal 
staff
for 
balance...

after all, an eternity of beauty and power in exchange for 
one
pathetic
soul.

The evening of the deed was a frigid six degrees, and there was a dead smell of
the sun.  She stayed late after work, waiting anxiously until everyone had gone.
Finally, he was alone in his office, so she placed the pearl necklace around her
fragile neck and unbuttoned her red, silk blouse so to reveal her sexy red
camisole.

She entered the office, and gently leaned over him from behind; he was aroused
by the scent of her "Red Door" cologne...his favorite, and his senses were even
more heightened as he turned around and observed her erect breasts speaking
in a language only he understood.  With his large hands, he slowly explored her
thighs, making his way up her black skirt.

"You have beautiful legs."
"You think so, huh?"

They kissed, and the necklace brushed his chest; he didn't feel well, at all.  He 
was hot...so hot, and his body began its metamorphosis, retaining a grayish
tinge....then blackish...

He
burst
into
flames;

then, disappeared along with all omens of the deed.

She walked over to the black wrought iron mirror and smiled; her wrinkles were
gone...vanished...just as promised; she was ten years younger.

The windows began sweating, and the handsome stranger appeared.

"I have one more assignment for you."
"But we made a deal, one soul."

She began to feel peculiar, and as she viewed herself in the black mirror, she 
began aging...ten years...twenty...thirty...she pulled out a large clump of thin, white
hair.

The room darkened from his moonly mind.



"My dear, the other soul...is yours."

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