Sipping fantasy at a secluded café,
intrigue in her dreams,
winks and sighs and someone dies,
they order another drink.
Mascaraed gazes in the afternoon,
film noir at night,
delicious mysteries over a wineglass rim,
it’s a poison lip delight.
Fixated on shadowed deception,
and telltale passion’s signs,
they play their deadly games,
hands roaming while they dine.
©October 2015 and May 2020, Christina Anne Hawthorne