Lady of the Night

Smoke, mingled with peroxides convoluted curl,
Her lips a filter tipped memory of acts performed,
Coiled serpent on one shoulder,
Entwined with indelible sentiment,
"Bobby 4 ever",
Tan skin fading into white, into tan,
Once held taught by black leather promises,
Following perspirations path, down undulating spine,
Ending in violet silks swelling peach,
Payment lost in langeries complexity, for an instant,
Then deftly gathered, hooked 'tween flesh and fishnet,
Rising she, mythical gaudy bird from embers lust,
Tracing trail of disgarded garments to the door,
I finger crushed linens impression of her form,
Last echoes of contracts complete,
"Bye hon', thanks....."
And then I sleep.

Olias