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.
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