Noir- The Lady Death

When you think of me
Think of the ocean, the depths
Of inky darkness that whisper of mystery
And madness.
Or of black roses, their morbid scent
A deadly incense, a sensual poison.
Like smoke, I’ll come to you,
A mistress of the night in robes of obsidian lace
To haunt your waking dreams
With visions of rancid, slow dancing decay.
When you taste my lips,
Your tongue will sense the stale presence of ash
And your eyes will widen as you drink my enchantments
Like sullied wine.
Think of velvet gloves against your flesh
And onyx hair as soft as silk
Trailing along the line of your neck.
Noir Noir Noir, let yourself dance with the lady death
And remember the last bewitching shadow
That plagued your sight
Draped in midnight gowns and veiled hats
With a voice as cold as the grave.
Think Noir
When you think of me.