To the Nines
Dressed to the nines, but with a lethal twist,
her cover blown, enacts her exit plan.
Those lips, a deep vermillion, never missed;
cotillion entrance stops hearts for a span.
A needle in the bracelet at her wrist…
With subterfuge to rival a MacBeth,
a poise belies her young and tender age.
Bare balanced on a blade ‘twixt life and death,
a china doll conceals a tiger caged.
Eyes locked on him, there’s murder on her breath.
She smiles, and with those eyes, the trap is sprung.
Embracing her, the prick is never felt.
Then pressing in, he forces past her tongue;
in mock response, she firmly clasps his belt,
glides to a chair - one down, the night is young.
—————-
for the THREE STANZA POEM IN QUINTAIN (SICILIAN) Poetry Contest
sponsored by Milt Hankins
written on 10/07/22
Copyright © Jeff Kyser | Year Posted 2022
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