Her world was like kid gloves
kissing the curves of her thighs
silk masks and champagne
and promises from voyeurs
gas light
thick velvet curtains
and stars gone bad.
She had a mouth made for secrets
and begging candy from strangers
that whispered the plots
lovers swept under sheets
at dawn
and green eyes that dipped
below the horizon
of his dreams.
And he came every night
to sit and watch
the sin of her hips
taste the black silk tafetta
of her petticoats as she danced
in buckled slippers
oblivious to the men
and moon above her.

His desire was like Absinthe
trickling down a dirty spoon
dark tongues and nectar
and dreams ripped from blade bones
tight breath
heavy velvet ropes
and gutted streets.
He had a need honed in damage
and sickly lies for strangers
that promised mayhem
blooming under a stagnant gaze
that blinked
liked a stunted moon
with its swollen grin
and dwarf eyes.
And he dreamed every night
of touching her
his hands savoring
the brittle tear and crushing
of her scented skin as she danced
for his eyes only
not noticing the bright blade
of his unraveling smile.