Under the moonlight
In the back of an ally,
Where red neon lights
Blight out future follies,
Two soon-to-be-lovers
Grow closer to each other.

He was all sharp,
Crisp black and white lines
A close styled suit which was
Meant to define the -
Which it did quite well.

She was of fluid
Poured into a mold,
The forming container a
Red dress newly sold
For specific purpose, to -
Which she would soon do.

And in it she glimmered
And sparkled like gold,
That glittering treasure
He so wished to hold.
Yet she had approached him
And with a whisper they left,
She with her prize and
Him with his -
Which he would soon collect.

She exhaled and he breathed in
And she smelled like chocolates,
And cherries, and smoke.
And they grew close, and she spoke,
The simple words of -
But he could not hear
Because he was kissing her.

Soft and painted lips kissed back.
Only once.
She tasted like revenge, and blood.
Sharp, and wet, a knife in his gut.
He looked at her up above as
She finished her simple words:
“This is for -  ”
And so he fell.

Scarlet lips contorted into
Cheshire smile,
Thoughts cavorted
With treasured grace.
Glancing into his
Bloodless face,
She whispered to him
Under her breath:
“Don’t you know red is
The color of - ?”