Noir

(villanelle)
formule poésie 28/30
 
Undone and in recline, the tiger smile,
The ruby rose in fluted, crowned cruet  
The Luger, holster, rouge, and French beguile.
 
The long brown hair, the sweep of unkempt style,
A silver cross in opened shirt’s inset
Undone and in recline, the tiger smile,
 
How she appeared as bistro’s lone exile,  
In clouded sun’s dapple, Rue Lafayette,
The Luger, holster, rouge, and French beguile.
 
“ ‘could use some rain, seems like it’s been awhile?”
“Our fountain’s dry, the pigeons seem upset!”
Undone and in recline, the tiger smile.
 
The Soir’s front page, on top of paper’s pile,
The napkin’s folded square, slightly offset,
The Luger, holster, rouge, and French beguile.
 
Her rise to leave, her trip, his reconcile
“SS” her hiss, and draws without regret.
Undone and in recline, the tiger smile,
The Luger, holster, rouge and French beguile.
 
😈