Night Wings
Death is a beautiful woman in an evening gown
Full red lips - hungry and wet- white pearls gleaming and
Glistening between her straight and perfect teeth
Arms outstretched
As she pulls you close and she whispers quietly in your ear
Words you have longed to hear. Sitting languidly on your couch sipping
Vodka and tonic water from your cleanest glass
Crossing and uncrossing long legs and the hem of her gown hiking up just enough
To give you a hint of the darkness that lies between her muscular and athletic thighs
You are ready to die for her.
You will die to have her
The promise of the womb
But this dark mistress has other plans
She rattles the empty tumbler stained red from her lipstick
At you and the ice sounds
Like a funeral bell
Or like a prisoner chained in her dungeon
Dragging his manacles behind him as he paces off eternity
She showers after making love
Toweling herself off with your dignity
She eats your carnality like you breathe air
And as you close your eyes
You barely feel the stick between your ribs
As she drives her stiletto smoothly into your tired flesh
Somewhere in the night you hear ice rattling in an empty
Lipstick stained tumbler
And you reenter the womb for the last time
On her night wings she flutters past you without regard