Laughter, giggles, morbid, happy, gentle, harsh, grating. All types of laughter have come through those pale pink lips (painted pink with lipstick from Revlon). All types of smiles have passed over those green eyes, emphasized by the pale gray eye shadow and dark black eye liner. That blond hair has been flipped over that pale, soft shoulder more times that I’ve counted, in a variety of emotions.

You ever see a girl like her before? She smiles like that and you wonder if she’s about to kiss you or kill you. Lovely woman, poison like belladonna, beautiful as a blooming rose. Gentle, sometimes, as the petals on that rose, and hard as thorns.

Sometimes, I’m stuck wondering if that lovely lady is going to rip my throat out. I’ve seen her do it before. Of course, then she’d been at risk for being raped. Now, I’m a generally good guy, so you don’t expect me to do anything like that.

She laughs, low and intimate, perhaps with amusement. I wonder if she’s being honest. Of course, she’s sitting on an old man’s lap, and you can’t trust her when she’s working. You can’t trust the lot of them when they’re working. She takes a cigarette off her the old man’s hands, and lights it between her lips, taking a puff and giving him a smoke flavored kiss.

Those kisses are things I remember, and to my shame, wish I still had plenty of.

Lovely woman.