Torch Song
By Willowluv
Blue notes
Red hair
Strap of her dress
Hanging from her shoulder
Like jazz trumpet smoke
Lithe bewitched and bewildered
Her heart keeps pace
With the lazy piano
Ripe tunes and ageless
Eyes clear like sunlight
Scotch and water lips
Half drunk and
fully aware
A crooked smile
Tracing amorous lines
Into scribbles across her nerves
Electric like the dying lights
At last call
Secret music
In the private grey
Of night's first passion
Tangled sheets
Discarded pages
Of greater songs
Yet played