Her tresses, the colour of an Moonless Evening cascade down Her slender figure, ending at the small of Her back. In Her wake the scent of apples and burning leaves.
I softly call out, "Sweetheart". She turns, Her heels clicking on the birch wood planks We stand upon.
I view Her, My heart stops; an second, shy of death.
Her brilliant amber eyes, framed by dark mist pierce My heart. An tear shaped ink stain below the corner of Her right eye, reminds Me of Her sorrow.
Her cherry coloured lips twist into an smile, revealing Her cigarette stained , crooked teeth. Violet mist floats upon Her hollow porcelain cheeks. An silver ring pierces Her right nostril.
An errant lock of coal blackness falls between Myself and Her dark radiance.
She brushes the dark curtain away with Her delicate, boney hand. The silver bands around Her wrist fall to Her forearm, revealing an brilliantly coloured ink stain.
Her thin raven eyebrows lift in curiosity.
My heart begins beating again. I hold out My scarred ,ink stained right hand to Her.
Her delicate hand reaches for Mine,the silver bands that encircle Her fingers hide the letters L, I, E, B.
"I'm fine............I look hungry?.............Will You be taking Your nap?.............I know Bebe, I won't start My infernal machine."
She glides to Our bedroom. Her scent lingers.
She made the bed on this dreary, rainey morning. Blood red ,crisp, starched sheets hide beneath an ivory goosedown comforter. Inviting rose coloured pillows at the mahogany headboard.
Absent minded, She kicks Her coal black stiletto heels off; She gently slides the straps of Her nightshade dress from milk white shoulders. She knows I am watching.
Her dress slides to the floor, revealing surreal beauty to My eyes. She turns to face Me, beckoning.
I shall join Her..........the infernal machine can wait.