Tuesday, February 7, 2012

Day 39/366

With shaking fingers she pressed,
The perfume glistened her neck.
In the fairy lights she looked,
The last minute make up check.

The kohl only slightly smudged
Just as she had intended,
Imperfections she devoured,
Since the last one ended.

A smug look on her face,
She meets her new found love,
No compliments were said,
As the eyes had said it all.

The crimson of her lips,
Parted as he leaned in,
The beauty of the night,
Absorbed by their bare skin.

The music touched the air,
Ambient, gentle sounds,
The darker shade of wine,
Spilt on the wooden floor.

1 comment:

  1. Seriously, feels awesome after reading your poems.