Painted Love

As the dance begins

It may breeze by

In between swirling petticoats and shiny tapping shoes

As though it were nothing but a simple summer breeze

Adding color to waves of perfume and

Kissing rose tainted cheeks

So softly

And although her painted face turns

as its illusive hand barely sweeps its fingerless touch across her jaw

in an instant it is gone

leaving faint aroma where color had been

And she won’t look for where it had gone

She won’t even notice it had arrived.

For in a single summer breeze

It has completed its province

Leaving behind a moment in time

Where everything seems normal

Save a small indeterminate feeling

Down deep in your stomach

That you didn’t remember having a moment before.

That’s what it does to you,

A type of hesitant expectancy.

Like you know something you want is about to happen,

But you don’t know what you want at all.

It can be illusive like this,

A mere whisper of fragranced air.

The clock ticks; it’s unstoppable, it moves on.

But you have been ebulliently kissed

Softly and sweetly

And though your searching fingers will not find its trace

You lower your hand from its place on your cheek

Knowing that you have been changed irrevocably.

Of course you are changing,

Every second that goes by,

You are somebody new. 

Yet it knows this, meant for it to happen this way.

It breathes life to virginal innovation

Moves fictitious bullets with a backwards wave

To pierce the hearts of girls

Who are only trying to make their petticoats swirl

their lace edged socks peeking out from shimmering shoes

purposefully subtle, yet still gives away

that they are innocently new.

They are the perfect target.

For they don’t know what it really is.

Naivety and inexperience grasp hands with the breeze

And it pulls them into a dance of sickly sweet rounds

Dripping pink and red into the small palm

That innocently continues to hold on

Though it pricks and tears at the skin.

But she, she’ll close her eyes and tighten her grip

Throwing off her white lace socks

 

She’ll then dance off to bed in the midst of swirling petticoats laughing and making love and bleeding little drops of perfumed air all over the white lace sheets

 

As if there’s nothing to it.