Curling Smoke

Curling smoke aligns metallic scented gun,
Still taste the essence on tingling tongue.
Sanguine red, like her lips, laboriously ooze,
Reeking of pungent sex and cheap booze.
 
Prone she laid, a cadaver on steel,
Guilt threatens to reject a last meal.
Bloodstained sheets our once passion bed,
Echoes of love where once placed our head.
 
Even in death her lovely body enticed,
Obsessions for her just too high priced.
Sirens jarring, rapidly closing in,
Reaching out to stroke waned skin.
 
Closing vacant baby blue eyes,
Her allure spews no more lies.
Kissing gelid lips once more.
Resignedly answer a pounding door.