The red eye of fire
Eats away the deadness
As it leaves a trail
Of gray behind
That drifts
Lazily forward
Like slender hands
Dancing slowly
While they spiral together
To form a woman of smoke

That twists
And curves
As she rises before
My longing eyes
Like some silken genie
Slipping from
Its amber lamp
Summoned by a
Brush and a kiss
From the sputtering match

Gray legs
Stretch upward
Into sleek, moist arms
As wisps of warm smoke
Swirl into swaying breasts
While pearl fingertips
Kissed to ash by the sick air
Curl and flex
A dead fire
Fast within each touch

Her hair fans into a pool
Of gray
That cascades down
Her velvet shoulders
To then slip down
Her smooth back
As her lips
Part in a teasing
Promise to drown me
In their dying warmth.

–and then I reach for her


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