The Last Night

Tonight is the last night.

Come morning, she will be lost to him forever.

He drapes her tenderly in velvet and satin,

Savoring every moment.

He is patient.

Studying her intently,

Drinking in every detail.

The diamonds at her earlobes wink at him

A slow, suggestive tease

Echoing the curl of her lips

The full, pouting temptation

Giving the lie to her politely averted gaze.

Even now, his hand trembles

As he traces the alabaster curve of her neck,

Past her shoulder,

Lingering down one arm

To pause at the top of one satin evening glove.

This, he removes with practiced ease

To gaze once more upon the lines of severed flesh

That first brought her to him.

Tonight; their last night,

Softly pressing his lips to one cold hand,

He weeps.

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