the promiscuous aura

"A promiscuous one, that girl", said
the middle-aged woman
"How so ?", he asked
She wreaks of a
thousand pains
behind her eyes, he'd thought.

He looked a while longer
Drank her facials
like they were a
quench to some thirst
he had
Long, wavy dark hair
left tingles in his fingertips
Lips so perfectly carved,
he could feel them all
over his body

A hand crept around her waist,
A hand not welcomed,
but she allowed it in,
with a smile that screamed
so many no's,
Yet she allowed it in.

And he understood that
there would be no room
there for his love.