Silhouettes

There is nothing that clothes her
like cold, dampish cigarette-smoke --

on such afternoons
she is a smoky silhouette
and a paler reflection

in the bare window
leading to a street
silent, and stripped of life:

yet inside she attests
to the fleeting instance
of heated discussion of flesh
against flesh,

sees desire in his eyes,
and fire in their loins.


I know, only very mildly erotic...and not graphic at all. I do write erotica occasionally, but I'm hardly ever straight forward with it...which is probably because I hate the word 'nipple'. Anyway, thought I'd post it nonetheless. :)

Very evocative, though I dislike the smell I get off this poem I still like the images.

I don't smoke myself, but the prompt was "sex and cigarettes"...so don't blame me! :)

I like the smoky imagery. I can't confess to completely understand exactly where u were going with this.. but then, hell, ive had a couple rum and cokes and wouldn't know a good thing if it bit me in the butt.. lol Keep up the great work.. =)