BLACK WIDOW

[Cropduster]

BLACK WIDOW

A sweet yet subtle perfume wafted through the entry door.
A prelude to a murder play, a drama on the floor.
A dervish draped in devil red with polished black stiletto
was spinning webs of silken threads to snare a certain fellow.
With sure of step and flick of hair, a paso doble skirt,
her laser eye fixed on the guy with whom she aimed to flirt.
The dance floor melted lava hot, she glided to his space
then turned, brushing her finger nails so deftly down his face.
Soft fingers traced his collar, and then fastened on his tie.
She claimed him, few would blame him, she the spider, he the fly.
She led him to the dance floor, to the centre of her lair.
She paralysed with passion, perfume and a piercing stare.
The prey had fallen victim, she would drain him of his soul.
She used him and abused him, one more to her pleasure roll.
And when the dance was over, and his energy was spent
she discards the hollow shell, and scans the room with vile intent
to find another victim, one more trophy she could claim
To satisfy her lust for blood, in her Black Widow game.

Copyright (c) Allan Cropper February 2016

[Heather]

Love it Allan There are some great lines and images in that.

Heather

[Maureen K Clifford]

a female with a voracious appetite

[alongtimegone]

Great Allan ... made me laugh and loved the lines.
Wazza

[Catherine Lee]

Excellent Allan, I love it - anyone for a dance?