Drunken guides pour
Through the crowd
Like hunters to prey.
Their eyes are bloodshot,
but narrowed from the haze.
There is no smirk here,
Just a grin to hide the lies.
Walk with her through the desert,
and knowingly be demised.

She touches you with
Sweet lips.
Her stain evident on the cusp
of your tongue.
Temptation stopping
to linger,
Her smoke coursing
through your lungs.

I walk with her through
the desert,
her fire being my sun.
She guides me with green eyes
and open lips,
without her,
I would be shun.