Lustful Bliss

She walks into the coffee shop.

Her tight black dress extends to her thighs.

A beauty to look at,

Desire burns in her piercing blue eyes.

Her cheek bones impeccable,

Her plump lips scarlet.

Word on the street,

She’s the town harlot.

She doesn’t sell for money,

Or any other economic gain.

She does it purely for herself,

For the pleasure and sometimes pain.

Her panty hose are lacy,

And her black leather pumps high.

She captures the eyes,

Of every man she walks by.

She sits gracefully at a table,

Then takes out a silk cloth.

The men surround her,

Like a candle and a moth.

She leaves a kiss on the silk,

Then slides it to an adjacent man.

He’s mesmerized by her audacity.

It’s all a part of her plan.

She coos in hushed tones,

From her tongue, riddles roll.

Her intentions clear as day,

She sees through to his soul.

Together they leave,

Through the coffee shop door.

Her silky cloth still on the table,

His self-control on the floor.