smoke and cranberries
she sang him boleros


come to me,
she sang as she swung her hips
to her never ending music.
he nodded in the dim light
and stared at the outline of
her shape, the gliding curves
hidden by a flowing, red dress.

she sang him boleros
and smothered him with
her lips. she tasted of
smoke and cranberries,
with the tang of vodka
and cheap desperation.

the snow glittered on
the sides of her pumps.
she tripped in her laughter
and brought him down
with her...