How I Love to Play These Games

Romanticising choice encounters with the opposite sex.

Long legs crossed, one over other
As she sat across the bar from me
Silken hair draped gently
Around angelic face.
She purses perfect lips
As though to kiss auspicious cigarette,
Then pauses for a moment, and
Looks me over.
Takes deep drag.
Exhales, exuding sultriness,
Always sexy without trying.
“I don’t quite know what’s wrong with me,
Though I’m sure I’ve felt this way before,”
She said.
Still watching me, so cool with icy eyes
Despite lips pout and red
That I can see drip with desire.
On her stories and stormy reflections spin for hours,
Little Clotho spinning thread of fate and
Always watching
Waiting for a way to coil my brain and
Wrap my soul around her little finger.