Looking Through Stained Glass

Cold-Hearted Illusion

John Huggett -  Woman at Mirror

She sits at her vanity in examination of her face
Wary of any unexplainable mar
And gently rubs away cooled wax from her breast
Grateful it will not leave a scar

Still she smiles at the dash of lusty memory
Of how it came to be there
Its reason kneeling down right in front of her
Blowing kisses in her hair

Her robe barely hampers his gift to her
As she combusts within
A contrast of wind from an open window
Cooling her hot skin

He comments on her luminescence
As he makes an invisible notch
She comments on his effervescence
As she hands him his watch

She warms at the sentimental kiss he gives her
Just before, he leaves
Out on business for a day
But he’ll be back the next eve

She's actually feeling good until
He uses her stage name
And pollutes the mood of the moment
Closing the door on the love game

She knows his affection is not
in the way he holds or even kisses her hand
Her cold-hearted illusion of love
In the wad of emerald bills left on the nightstand

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raivenne@theraivenne.com

© 2005 Raivenne (All rights reserved)

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