She smokes her cigarette
daintily across the room
and he stares, enchanted
by her sexy light and dim
eyes.
He glides across to her
and she becomes more clear;
she bellows out smoke
through circled pink lips
and they curl upward.
Smile.
He says his name is Noah
and can he have a smoke.
Sure, she says, and he
takes her stained cig,
smokes.
He calls her beautiful
and asks her to dance.
A nod confirms and
he spins her onto the dance floor.
They rock back and forth
as the music moves
around their close bodies
and she smiles at
his whispers in her
ear.
The spins dizzy her
and she holds tight to
him and he chuckles
against her warm, high
cheek.
She pulls away to face
him and he claims her
glossed lips with his
and she puckers
them.
He pulls away, and
she smiles up at him.
I have a secret, he
says, and she grins,
intrigued.
He tells her, and she
only throws her
head back and laughs.
Later
Let’s go, she whispers
as they sit at the
table; they had shared wine and tapas,
bellies full.
He takes her hand
and leads her out into
the sweetly cool night and
brings her to him
again.
She chuckles his name
and gently pushes
at his muscled chest
with delicate
hands.
He smiles charming and sweet,
and she looks away
coyly as his face
goes from pleased to
shock, the crack!
echoing in his ears.
He folds over himself
like an empty sack and
she watches his blood
stain his crisp white
shirt.
She replaces her .38 revolver
into her clutch and
turns on her skinny heel,
cigarette in hand,
lit.
