She sat there
Liquor in hand ; half empty
Her Cherry red lips parted slightly
Full  and  puckered; head tilted sideways

Her sapphire eyes dancing
Behind large jade spider legs
Charcoal mascara
Heavily lidded; alluring
She's a Smokey  princess

Her lips smirking; elegantly lazy
Against her graceful cheekbones
With a modest rose  blush
Decorating her lush cheeks
The false modesty of a killer

Perfection has no flaws
As her shimmering tan skin
Coated with peach powder
Suggests; evocatively

Striking curved eyeliner highlights
Her youthful  heart shaped face
With silky red ravines cascading
Down to her slim  Miss World waist

With her bottle figure; all in proportion
Gazes she draws in; airy kisses blown
Misleading young hearts in tow
She's a ladykiller and boy does she *know it!

The  eerie warmth that comes with the calm before.
The unnerving shade of black that only clouds can claim.
The heat that rises from tarmac on empty, open roads.
The scent of petrichor from the passing of earlier rain.
The first rumble starts somewhere unknown and distant.
The suggestion, an omen, of the beginning of an end.
The first drop of rainfall from another night of storms.
The thunder waking creatures from their beds.
The sounds increase slowly as time crawls and passes.
The night is young and roars keep rolling in.
The dark, as such, so early in the evening.
The set of warm goosebumps rising over skin.
The colour of the sunset behind their eyelids.
The blood of Gods is soaking up their breaths.
The momentary post apocalyptic sense of living.
The moody skies catalyse thoughts of untimely deaths.  
The passing of the clouds seems dangerously fast.
The growls now thick and boisterous, vehement and clear .
The dust that whips past legs and arms and faces.
The shelter is no barrier for the splitting of an ear.
The tranquillity of standing up in air now still.
The peace of opportunity to look over horizons.
The aftermath of rain and wind and thunder.
The silence of one mind becoming enlightened.