Her eyes burn so brilliant blue
that passing stars are cast
into veils of obscurity.
Her hair,
It glides like
the strokes of an artist
or musicians’ fingers
in mesmerizing blends
of midnight black.

Her soft voice
reaches out
across the bar,
wrapping my heart
in silvery threads.
But her smile
like dying fires,
which I long to stoke
with gentle words.

I’ve spent nights lonely
hopping bars
carried home
on the perfumed wings
of fifty dollar angels.
Who in the morning
hear my undying love
in tearful goodbyes
patting my head
and counting the bills.

But she is different
her price comes
sealed with a
venomous kiss
which pulsates gently
through every vein.
on cheap wine
and empty promises.

She powders her nose,
I finish my drink.
And guided
by clicking
we leave
into the cold night