That Smile
It’s still the smile
From decades earlier
The one that lit coral pearls
That convinced the imperfective wrinkle lines below nostrils to stun
Rubied lips doused in cherry ChapStik
Framed by bronzed coils that never knew taming
She stares up
Into me
As chemicals surge from neurotransmissions
Cherub palms grasp at my cheeks
Drawing me into succubi’s slavery
Oxygen diminishes
Seven hundred and forty six degrees of molten desire
Passed back and forth between probing tongues
Slipping out of self and tripping into us
Years haze much of the rest
The decades dim
But it’s still the smile on those darkest days I cling
Copyright © Cynical Musician | Year Posted 2015
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