The air is cold and damp
the wind a bit sharp
he stands on the corner
under the yellow, flickering light
a pile of extinguished butts
lay on the ground at his feet.
Peering out into the darkness
he searches for her,
looking for that familiar walk,
the way she sways her hips
listening for her heels clicking
keeping time with his own heart.
In the mist he sees her
like a wraith coming to devour
her lips blood red as she reaches
holding the ripened fruit in her hand.
His lips touch the skin, the cool feel
as he bites into the flesh, sweet
yet bitter on his tongue
while in the dark the eyes glow
the promises of the gypsy
laughing at their attempt
love was not that easy they said.