The JaZz noteZ were playing in the bodega of the Blue Note Café.The crooning ballad had stopped as the silence hushed over him. The air was quiescent, and yet the cellared ambiance was heavy from the stagnant coiling smoke. Overhead the brass bladed fans were working hard to cool the sweat that was licking him. Her perfume was heady with a rhapsody in rapture, and it preceded her bodacious strut. She slithered down the blue neon stairs and I could hear the sound of her high heels echoing above the hypnotic blues that was drowning my incandescent soul. My mind was mesmeriZed by the tang of her sachet essence. I took a smoke from my silver embossed cigarette case, and I placed it between my lips like a Siren from a fire. The Zippo kissed the tip and the embers were now ablaZe.
I could taste the bittersweet acrid tobacco. I watched her in silhoueted unison upon the damp landing of the blue neon stairwell. I knew it was arespite for her heat. Her ruby lipstick branded the white filter of her smoke.I felt a stirring as she smouldered and exuded an aura of venial Delights.
The fates were cast, you know that old cliché of all the gin joints in the world she's gotta walk into my place...
I sat laZily in my chair and proceeded to move the chair with my foot. The move dared her to take a seat. Or was my mind playing games with me. She came towards me like a woman
of intentions swaying her hips hypnotically. She was the narcotic and I was the pain. She sat down so easily and crossed her French Silk nylon legs. She eXhaled the seduction and I inhaled the seduce.
The JaZz band crooned a melodious ballad and the saXophone
beguiled uZ to the hardwood dance floor. The molten tempestuousness melded. There had been no words. The liquid motion was coital in design. The notes of B flat and E sharp played a sonorous duet. They went back to the Tiffany lamp lit table in the coZy corner. He took a smoke and placed it between his lips and sparked the metaphoric phallus. He inhaled deeply to calm the thunder. She took the smoke from his hands and whispered the soft silver dulcet. Drowning in my Soul She turned her back to me and sauntered back to the smoke haZed stairway. There was no need for her to look back as she eXited...My gaZe was already searing her braZen thoughtZ...She waZ my sonnet, I waZ her Muse... That is why they call it the BlueZ...
Reason for writing:
it felt right at this point on a hot summer night
Birth sign: Not entered
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