Noir

I revised this a bit, I think it's a bit better than before.

A dim spotlight reveals her dress

two shades of red glinting back at me

A cigarette dangles from her parted lips

red as her dress

Blonde locks shield her eyes

refusing to unveil any information

What time is it, she mumbles around the cigarette

3 a.m.

The witching hour

She runs her palm along her waist

sensual but with a purpose

Her smile flashes, intimidating

Taking a step toward me,

her heels click in the silence

and her eyes, now shrouded in shadow,

stare in my direction

Though I can’t see them, I can feel the heat,

the intensity with which they bore into my flesh

Is she still filled with bloodlust?

 

Is she imagining slipping the blade hidden at her thigh

through my chest as well,

feeling the blade crash into my flesh, reaching for bone

crushing, ripping, tearing the life from me?

She has already claimed one lover

does she feel the same rage for me?

Stepping out of the shadows, her eyes appear glassy

concealing something behind those hazy mirrors

Her hand appears at her mouth

Got a light?

 

As I strike a match to complete her fix,

I can see the bits of blood dancing on her dress

 

Reviews

[Douglas Bujak]

This poem is amazing ... Its so visual.

So deep and dark ... and i love it.

[Rebecca Rogers]

Very interesting and mysterious!

Nice work! :)