Pass The Bottle, I'm Still Alive In Here

Draped in the scent of cheap booze and a scar spangled banner
of self recriminations
I rose from the ashes of my last hangover,
an unboxed compass lost to wayward seas
where I found the hidden place beauty hails from
 
it whispers a soft seduction
an echo of femininity
of wild passion
a hint of salt
 
between the plumes of smoke
and the soft click of a switchblade
is her rogue caress
it’s serpentine
twisting my guts like a knot tied by a veteran sailor
trying to ensure the anchor will hold to the ocean floor
 
her illusions work through the stench of cigar fog
spark like flint before striking to flame
 
she catches the eyes of our temptation
dares we hold her gaze…
the allure of such a fragile creature
wrapped in desolate hunger
is enough to force the most brazen of us
into furtive glances
 
she has darkness draped round her shoulders
as a minx scarf
wearing sin as perfume
she sings for her strangers
in a crooning siren song
 
sorrow has chosen the form of a woman
to accentuate its sullen curves