Midnight in the Garden

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.

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2 thoughts on “Midnight in the Garden

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