17.11.15 Succubus

underground 

through a gaze filtered 

by gin,  purple smoke

you’re a sirens call

I cannot refuse

all I have

is 

a drink

and smoke

you should be in my 

bed

wanton and shameless

taking and giving  pleasure

dare I presume

love

instead

my bed made up 

in resplendent

clean comfortable smiling like 

a thousand  clowns

secretly sad and empty

missing 

your blue eyes