Velvet Smoke

The lights are low, the air is thick with sin, a lazy sax moans soft against the dark. She sips her drink, red lipstick on the rim, her gaze a flame that flickers with a spark. The piano sighs, each note a lover’s touch, fingertips tracing secrets on the keys. She hums along, just barely, not too much, a whispered song that brings men to their knees. Her laughter drapes like silk upon the night, a promise spun in amber, warm and slow. She leans in close, her eyes a hungry light-- a queen who knows they’ll beg before they go. The music fades, the spell is cast, complete. She leaves alone--but hearts still burn like heat.