Femme Fatale

A Poem by Victoria W.

Offering a drink does not make you kind. xo

an ambient red room
dimly lit.
hot cherry rocks
exhale clouds of nicotine
and stress free.
a femme fatale softly
leaning against
a supple, chinelle loveseat.
quite the paradox.
one leg resting
upon the other, crossed.
her long, onyx hair
lolled along her breasts
down her chest
to her navel.
her face beat.
wings so sharp.
precise like her gaze.
her focused, narrow gaze.
vermillion lips to match
the heat in the room.
and her soft, hugging
dress.
her hands in her lap.
a fellow approaches
this cherry smoke show.
he offers her a glass of
giuseppe e figlio.
she declines
the garnet wine.
the bloke remarks
"sophisticated women
do not tell me no."
the vermillion woman
suggestively leans in
to the man's face.
she sips the glass
of garnet
then tips it
into his lap.
he was speechless.
femme fatale then
sashayed away
with another man's ego.
a cherry stem
to pick her teeth.