She wears the evening with a thigh-high slit,
cigarette smoke wrapped around her shoulders like armor.
With a slow blink, she leans back,
dark tresses splashing her bare shoulder.
Val watches as he circles closer, aware of all moves
like a chess master knows the first pawn play.
She lets him smile his way into buying her a drink. She sips it,
her gaze lingering past the rim into his eyes, drinking her in.
She lights another gasper and crosses her legs,
flash frying electricity that short circuits his senses.
Her lips dance around a laugh laced with knives,
while her evening clutch packs more heat than her hips.
Tonight will blossom into black petal hours
that stay dark, and darker still when the fragrance
of her derangement haunts his skin relentlessly.
He staggers under her snaring gaze, mesmerized and ruined.