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Rated: E · Poetry · Dark · #2043183
Is this love?
Raven hair,
Swinging hips,
Warm moist air
upon her lips

Freckles play
Against her chest
A cross nestled warmly between her breasts.

A shadow of a dress
Hugs her form
The dressings on the window drawn.

A dancing flame
Is in her eyes
She pulls her dress above her thighs

She lures me close
I hear her sigh,
As I run my hands along her thigh

She asks me if
I'm willing to die,
For one more moment by her side

She knows my answer
I doubt it not,
But that will be my final thought

Cause as I swill
My glass of bourbon,
My throat contracts overburdened

From the poison
On the rim,
I see her smile dark and grim
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