She is a playful songstress coyly looking
over her shoulder as she walks away with
just the hint of invitation on her lips. She

mouths temptation but no sound. The eyes

hold danger and pleasure unbound.

Just my weakness. The wicked razors edge  

that draws my ego forwards and my judgment

to earth.

How many times before have I done the dare.

The smooth and well honed edge will draw blood.

But. I am well numb to caution. Ego.
Twisted. The game is on.