She wore a red dress and a blue corset,
the laces tied ever so tightly
She owned the hardened streets of
the moon-lit night so that
her heels never clicked upon arrival
She fed from red wine as
her wraith like form danced
Her watchers waited in turn
with greedy eyes
for a single rose chance
Oh, that wisp of a girl
with black-painted nails
and ripened lips
How they marveled at
her beautiful loneliness
Alas, the hands of midnight passed
to her once sacred place
As the hour-glass emptied
its last chance
to bring light to the sky,
she laid the dress into a pile of
ever-growing red
Her heart clenched fitfully
into a cold slumber, a lone tendril
of curl against her blue corset
I like the feeling of desire mixed with a bit or eeriness in the poem. A bit of dark meeting light in the words and the feeling it gives me.
Refreshing, it seems many of us have a moment in time we remember this is fresh, in the air, and yes its nice to write about a moment in time. Some we remember some we want to forget.
Thank you very much! 😊