Dark Angel

BY CAROLE NICHOLS

You can't help but sigh as you spy
That angel in skin tight jeans.
He's exactly as you dreamed he would be,
Yet, nothing's quite as it seems.

He is there, so dark of hair,
His eyes are black as polished coal;
Placed just right on a perfect face,
They seem to pierce you to the soul.

His lips are full, you feel their pull,
As they widen in a knowing smile;
What they don't say, his body does;
Makes you want to linger a while.

He moves in sensuous motion,
That heats your blood, tugss your heart;
His shoulders, wide, his hips are lean,
His chest your fingers itch to chart.

With a look, your senses reel,
He has the power to make you yearn
To view the beauty of his form;
His touch is hot, but it doesn't burn.

And with the attraction comes a hint
Of a sure and subtle danger;
For all his heat, his soul is cold;
He has no heart, this handsome stranger.

He wears his conquests like a chain,
Covered with tears of the lost;
Of those who ignored their fears,
Let him possess them, at any cost.

If you see him, don't look in his eyes,
For he'll strip you of all your pride;
He makes a feast of jaded love;
He'll use you up, then cast you aside.