Smoke and Sin
The club was dim, a haze of gin and gold,
where jazz ran slick like honey through the air.
She stood in shadow, wicked, dark, and bold,
red dress a warning--men still stopped to stare.
Her cigarette burned low, a dying spark,
a curl of smoke that whispered through the room.
She met my eyes and smiled--slow, and dark--
a prelude to the kiss that spelled my doom.
Her voice was silk, laced soft with bourbon heat,
each word a lie that tasted rich and sweet.
She dragged me close, a moth into the flame,
and laughed as I surrendered to the game.
The night grew cold, the music played its tune--
I turned… too late. She vanished with the moon.
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
