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Poetry is just the evidence of life. If your life is burning well, poetry is just the ash. Leonard Cohen

Wednesday, June 26, 2013

Where There's Smoke



Stanley Kubrick for Look Magazine, 1949

Sweater tight in all the right places
Cherry red pout
She knew she was hot
Caught his attention
and drifted across the room
like a cloud of perfumed smoke
His smoldering eyes
betrayed his desire
She lit his fire
then roasted his heart over it,
licking her lips all the while.

3 comments:

Fireblossom said...

Poor weaker sex. Oh well, they'll make more!

Susie Clevenger said...

Love it! Poor guy gets his heart turned into barbecue! Thanks for taking part in the challenge!!

Brian Miller said...

ouch...those last couple lines...how wicked...heart doesnt taste bad though with the right seasoning...smiles.